5 Chapter 5: The phone number

Have you ever felt the need to scream, but something stops you? Do you want to talk, but the words get stuck in your throat? Do you want to hit something, but you suppress your impulses and hurt yourself by squeezing your hands tightly at your side? This is how I feel every day of my life since the day of the accident. Every time I wake up and see the dirty, torn ceiling over my head, when I open the refrigerator and see that I don't have anything to eat today, or when I have to wear the same clothes every time because I don't have enough money to buy me new clothes. It hurts to live like this. It hurts to think that I had everything a few years ago, and I'm not just talking about the material. When I had these moments of frustration, I talked about having someone by my side to support me and not anymore. And unfortunately, that's when you realize that you didn't value those people in your life as you should have. That's when you want to go back in time and tell those people how much you love them, but it's too late.

Now that Jake is gone, he reminded me how lonely I am...

A few knocks on the door make me leave my thoughts.

"Occupied," I scream, wetting my hair.

I close my eyes, letting the artificial water relax my muscles, but the knocking on the door doesn't stop.

"I'm fucking coming!" I turn off the shower and take the towel

I try to get dressed as quickly as possible because of the incessant knocking on the bathroom door. I go out drying my hair with the towel to meet Don Eugenio.

"Couldn't it wait?

"I just wanted you to invite me to the shower" He looks at me lewdly.

I grimace and dodge him to climb the stairs to my room while listening to his laugh full of mockery.

I begin to prepare for a new day of work. I appreciate that today is Friday and that I have some time to rest this weekend. Although that also meant more free time for negative thoughts to come to me. Once I was ready, I grabbed my purse and went downstairs.

"You get some mail," Says Mercedes, with some letters in her hand. "I hope that if it's money, you'll pay me what you owe."

"I promise I'll pay you tonight," I say, opening the envelope.

The University of Southern California regrets to inform you that we have rejected your application for a college scholarship due to your low-grade point average in your last few years of high school...

I make a little ball with the letter in my hand and throw it away without reading it. I feel the helplessness and disappointment growing inside me. I was running out of options. Without a scholarship, I will not study because I have no money to pay for my studies. Sometimes I think about quitting. Accepting that this is the life I have to live and not wanting to change it. Whenever I think I have a chance to achieve something, something stops me from doing it.

With heaviness, I walk to work that is about thirty minutes away from me, but I am already used to walking that distance. Once in front of the restaurant's door, I mentally prepare myself for another long day of work.

________________

Another day of work. Another day, I have to get up at six in the morning after a bad night full of nightmares, another day when I have to fake a smile when I want to get it over with.

"I can see you getting more and more down," says Camille.

"I'm just a little tired," I answer with a tired smile.

She doesn't seem too sure of my answer, but she doesn't well on it much longer. Instead, we keep talking about unimportant things until it's time to go back to work. The next few hours pass quickly. I had to close today so that I would leave late. Since it's Friday, the restaurant gets very crowded, which keeps me busy and makes the time fly by.

"Well, Nora, here's your check," Frank says, handing me a piece of paper.

I take the paper in my hands, feeling that my shoulders are taking a big weight off. Finally, I can pay Mrs. Mercedes a month's rent. When I leave the restaurant, I go to the bank to deposit the check and take out the money. Then I practically run to the bus stop, but only arrive to watch it depart. I look at the time on my phone, 11:30 pm. The next bus would pass in an hour. I could call an Uber, but that would cost me what I spend on the bus during the week. So I make the worst decision of the night, walking home. Whenever I walk the streets at night, I am aware of every movement around me, but this time I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I didn't realize what would happen next...

Someone takes me from behind and covers my mouth with their hand to drown out my screams. Panic takes hold of me as I am dragged into a dead end. A tall man, whose face I cannot see because of the darkness, stands in front of me while someone else holds me.

"We will not hurt you if you will cooperate," He says. "You going to cooperate?" The mockery was clear in his voice.

I can only nod silently as I feel the tears running down my cheeks.

"Don't cry" Run his thumb down my cheek to dry my tears, and I turn my face away from his touch. "Give me the bag."

I want to do what he says, but panic prevents me from moving, and I can only squeeze the bag tightly in my hands. He approaches and reluctantly takes it away from me. He takes my cell phone out of the bag and looks at me with disapproval. "This piece of junk is no use to us" Throws it against the wall behind me.

I jump a little bit scared because of the sound the device makes when it hits the wall and breaks into little pieces. Then I see that he takes the money I received today out of my purse. He keeps part of the money in his pocket, and the other part he gives to the person holding me from behind.

"This is useful" He looks at me from top to bottom. "But I think you will have to pay me otherwise," Says, licking his lips.

I immediately understand what he means and panic sets in.

"We have the money; let's go." I pray to heaven that the man in front of me will hear him and only take the money and go, but he clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

"Go, I'll catch up with you later," He responds.

The man behind me hesitates for a few seconds, and I pray in my mind that he will do something, but finally, he releases me and leaves. I take advantage of those seconds of freedom to try and run away, but a hair pull prevents me from doing so. I let out a scream, bringing my hands to my head.

"Where do you think you are going?" He asks me, approaching him.

I can feel his nose running down my neck and his free hand coming down my waist to get closer to him. My back hits his chest.

Not again.

I raise my hands to bury my nails in the hand that holds my hair tightly. So tight that I feel like he is going to pull it out at any moment. He lets out a groan, turns me over to him, and raises his hand. In that matter of seconds, I can see a dragon tattoo along the length of it. Then his hand smashes into my left cheek. I fall to the ground, seeing everything blurry for a few seconds, and I can feel the metallic taste in my mouth.

"You fucking bitch" He screams, holding his hand

He comes up to me again and tears my work shirt in two, exposing my bra, and I start screaming like crazy as I try to avoid his hands on me at all costs.

He's on top of me.

Him touching me

He inside of me.

The memories come to my mind, and all I do is kick and scream.

The man lifts me again and pushes me to the wall, burying his face in my neck. I feel disgusted when his tongue brushes the skin of my neck, and I take advantage of his moment of distraction to lift my leg and connect my knee to his crotch with all the strength I had. He falls to his knees on the floor, covering his affected area with one hand and shouting thousands of insults at me. Without thinking twice, I run as fast as I can. I run as if my life depended on it because it did. I don't even bother to look back to see if he was running after me. I walk into a bar and close the door. I lean against it and breathe heavily, trying to catch my breath. The music is loud, and the lights are off. Only dim lights are shining, and people are too drunk to notice my presence. I see a wall phone right by the door. I approach it trying to cover myself with my torn shirt. Luckily I had a couple of coins in my pockets that they didn't bother to take. I insert the coins, and when I am about to dial a number, my hand freezes in the air as I realize that my cell phone only had Camille's, Frank's, and Kevin's number, and the number of some old schoolmates I no longer talk to. The problem is that I don't know any numbers by heart, and my phone is in pieces somewhere in that dark alley.

I don't want to go home alone.

I rest my forehead on the phone, letting out a shaky sigh. Then I remember that there is a number I know by memory.

If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to call me.

For some strange reason, my mind was determined not to forget your number, and at that moment, I was grateful. I dial the number with trembling hands, and when I think he is not going to answer, he does.

"Hello?" He asks with a shout. I can hear the loud music on the other end of the line.

"Jake..." My voice breaks when I say his name.

A few seconds pass in silence. I can only hear the music in the background until there comes a moment when the music is heard further away.

"Nora?" He asks, the remarkable concern in his voice, "Where are you?

That's when I break down. The sobbing doesn't allow me to speak.

"Hey... breathe" His voice sends a wave of tranquility through my body.

Once he managed to calm me down, I tell him that I was assaulted in an alley and that I was now inside a bar. I give him the name of the bar.

"Don't move from there. I'll be right there," He says and hangs up.

I sit down at an empty table and try to calm down a bit, but my hands are shaking, and I can only cry in silence. About fifteen minutes later, the door slams open, and a worried Jake peeks through it. His eyes meet mine, and his worried look turns into an angry grimace.

"What the hell did they do to you?" He takes my face in his hands and runs his thumb gently across my split lip

I can't answer. I look away, feeling embarrassed to take over completely. He helps me get up, and I can see him clenching his jaw when he sees my torn shirt. He takes off the jacket he is wearing and passes it over my shoulders. He leads me out of the bar, and we stop in front of a black car. He opens the co-driver's door, and I get in. He walks around the car to get into the driver's door.

Are you wearing a seat belt?

Only one seat with the head.

"Wait a minute," he comes to me, and I hold my breath.

He takes the front of the belt and stretches it back, making it feel tighter against my chest. His face is very close to mine, so close that I can see his moles.

-Now," he says, stepping away and settling into his seat, "we don't want anything to happen to you if we have an accident.

Does his gesture fill me with tenderness and confusion. What person takes the time to tighten their belt? Still, I was grateful. After the accident, I didn't want to get into a car. After a few months, I was able to do it, but I still close my eyes tightly and feel my heart racing every time I hear the sound of a horn or a brake.

The road is silent, he guides his eyes fixed on the road, and I can't take my eyes off the drops falling from the glass. Once in front of the hostel, I scowl at the sight of Doña Mercedes and some guys taking out all my belongings. I get out of the car, and she doesn't even let me talk when she throws the plastic bags full of clothes at my feet.

"I warned you, Nora."

I swallow the knot in my throat to try to talk.

"I swear I had the money," I say, "But I was mugged.

"I don't care about your excuses" She looks down on me, "Especially now that I know you brought a man into the house without my knowing it."

I look at Don Eugenio next to her. He looks at me with a triumphant smile.

"But I will pay Mercedes. I need more time," I say, ignoring Don Eugenio's look, and she laughs, shaking her head.

"I'm tired of having you here, so take your things and go."

People are starting to look on the sly to see what's going on outside. It seems that it is never too late to hear the gossip. With my dignity on the ground, I pick up the bags from the floor, thinking about what I will do next.

I have nowhere to go.

"If you want to stay, you know what you have to do." I look at Don Eugenio without worrying about hiding the disgust I feel for him.

Suddenly the bags are ripped out of my hands. I turn my face slightly to the right to see Jake. I didn't notice when he got out of the car and approached us, but he doesn't look at me. He looks at the two people in front of me. This is the second time I've seen him adopt that cold look, and the truth could intimidate anyone.

"Get in the car," He whispers in my hatred with a serious voice.

With my head down, I do what he says. I see through the glass that he is talking to Doña Mereces. Then he takes out a wad of bills and throws them on the floor, and she, with what little dignity she has, bends down to pick them up. I see him put my things in the trunk, and then he opens the driver's door, goes in, and throws it out with force. He starts driving again, and I have no idea where to go.

"Don't let them humiliate you," He says in a serious voice.

I avert my eyes from the road to watch him. His eyes are fixed on the road, his hand squeezes the steering wheel hard, and I can see the veins marked on his arms and neck. We don't talk the rest of the way, he's too busy looking at the road, and I'm watching the trees go by. We stop in front of a small gray and white house. He parks the car and gets out. I stay in my seat, not knowing what to do until he opens the door and tells me to get out. I see that he has my things in his hand, and I have no idea what we are doing here. He puts his hand on my lower back to make me walk to the entrance of the house. Then he takes the key out of his pocket and opens the door. The inside of the house is very nice and much bigger than the room in the hostel. The walls are white. The living room has a black leather armchair with a glass table in the center and a TV on the other side. A bar is the only thing that separates the kitchen from the living room.

"Welcome," He says, stepping aside to invite me in.

I walk in, not quite sure, and stand in the middle of the room. Suddenly a Siberian husky comes out from behind the armchair and runs towards us. I close my eyes, expecting the worst, but I only get a lick on my left hand.

"Max down," Says Jake, "You're lucky. He doesn't usually like strangers." He bends down at the dog's height to pet him a little, "Come on," He gets up and starts walking down the hall.

There are only two doors in the hallway. Open the door on the right, and it's a room with a big bed in the middle, a closet on the side with a sliding mirror door, a croquette, and a door that I imagine leads to the bathroom. I am surprised to see everything so neat and clean. I always thought that the men are all messy, with lots of posters in their room of naked women or cars, but apparently, not all are like my brother. I watch in silence while he takes the clothes out of some drawers and puts them in others, leaving two drawers empty.

"You can put your clothes in here and use part of the closet."

I'm still mute. I don't know what to say. I can't stay in his apartment, but I don't have anywhere to go either. The frustration of this whole situation makes the knot in my throat tighter and tighter. Shame takes over my body, and I can't even look him in the eye.

"I..." I think that saying, "You don't have to do this for me. I'll find a place to spend the night and..." He interrupts me.

"Hey! I owe you this and more."

My eyes fill with tears, and I look away to fix my eyes on a spot on the wall.

He grabs my arm to get out of his room, and I manage to cover myself with my free hand with the jacket. He makes me sit on one of the bar's high chairs and goes around the bar to open the freezer and get some ice. He takes a napkin, wraps it around the ice cube, and comes back to my side to press it against my lip. I make a sore sound as I feel the ice against my sore face and whisper an apology.

"Would you like to tell me what happened?" He asks, and I nod my head

He breathes a sigh but says nothing. He passes the ice bucket over my injured lip. I allow myself to appreciate his face now that I have him so close. The bruises on his face are no longer visible, and just as I thought, he was a very handsome boy. His black hair is a mess; his eyes are as dark as his hair, his lips are thick with a piercing he didn't have on the day he came to my house for help...I can't find a flaw in him.

Why is genetics so unfair?

I stop looking from his lips. He is busy with his task of healing the wound on my lip. Suddenly he brings down the ice, which is the only thing that stands between us and brings his face closer to mine until our breaths mix. I feel the air getting stuck in my throat, and panic sets in me. Having him so close makes all my senses alert, so I pull my face back, pressing hard on the jacket I'm wearing.

He clears his throat by separating from me instantly.

"You can sleep in my room," He says, looking away, "I'll sleep on the couch."

"No need, I can... "He turns around and disappears down the aisle, leaving me with the word in my mouth.

After a few minutes, it appears again. His hair is wet as if he had just taken a shower. He has no shirt on, just a gray pair of sleeping pants, with a black drawstring in front. I can't help but look down at his abs, my eyes collide with the small scar on his side, and I look away immediately, feeling the blood rushing to my cheeks.

"You can take a shower in confidence," He says and begins to tuck in the sheet in his hand and the pillow on the couch.

I can see the tattoo on the top of his back on the left side with my back to me. It is an anchor with shades of blue and black, and the desire to run my fingers through his skin invades me, but I deny it with my head, and I scold myself mentally. Without saying anything, I get up from the chair I'm sitting in and pass by his side to go to his room to take a shower and try to forget what happened tonight. The hot water falling on my back almost makes me moan with satisfaction. It has been a long time since I enjoyed a hot bath. I would like to stay longer enjoying the water, but I try to go as far as I can because I don't want to abuse the kindness of the guy who came to my rescue. Once bathed and with my clothes on, I go inside the comfortable sheets of the big bed, but even though it has been a long time since my back has touched such a comfortable mattress, every time I close my eyes, the images of what happened come to my mind and do not allow me to fall asleep.

I keep tossing and turning in bed and looking at the clock on the bedside table at 1:30 am.

Go to sleep, Nora.

My dry throat asks for some water, so I get out of bed. My feet touch the cold floor, and I almost run to some sandals right in front of the closet. They are so big that they make me think that this boy must be relative to big feet. I walk down the hall to the kitchen, trying not to make any noise to wake up the boy sleeping on the couch, but I am surprised to see the TV on and Jake lying on his side staring at the screen.

Can't sleep either?

The memory of the morning when we woke up together after my nightmare comes to mind. The day he told me he was having nightmares too and was barely sleeping.

Are you running away from your dreams?

Suddenly he looks away from the TV, and when he sees me, he grimaces in confusion. I quickly look away and try to pretend I'm on my way to the kitchen and not just stare at him like a fool.

"I came to get some water," I say, opening the refrigerator.

He nods and looks back at the screen.

His fridge is almost as empty as mine, just a few beers, some things for breakfast, and a vase of water. Imagining him drinking causes a void to settle in my stomach. I try to ignore the memories that that simple can provokes in me, and I close the fridge with the vase of water in my hands. I drink one of the glasses from the counter, and the cold liquid cools my throat.

"Can give me some?" He whispers in my ear

I jump in my place, drop the glass on the floor, and it breaks into a thousand little pieces.

"Oh God," I held a hand to my chest, "I am so sorry!"

Silly, silly, silly...

"Don't worry," Says with a laugh.

He disappears in the dark and comes back with a broom in his hands. He turns on the light in the kitchen and picks up the glass pieces from the floor.

"I really don't..." He interrupts me

"It was a quiet accident," He says, but the shame doesn't fit on my chest.

"I'll pay you back. Just tell me how much..."

"Which is just a glass, don't worry" He interrupts me again. "Did you cut yourself?" Ask and I deny

He serves some water and leaves the kitchen to go back to the living room.

"You can't sleep either?" He asks, and I nod my head. "Do you want to watch TV?"

I think about it for a few seconds and then agree to sit next to him, but keeping a safe distance between the two. On TV they are showing an animal documentary of the planet about the different species of snakes.

How boring.

For some reason, their presence makes the fear of what happened a few hours ago disappear. Maybe it's the fact that I'm not alone in a dark room. It doesn't take long before I feel my eyes slowly close. I feel like I'm being pulled, and my head is falling on something soft, and I don't even make an effort to open my eyes. I just let the dream invade me completely.