I awoke by slow degrees. Slowly registering the sunlight filtering on my face, the distant sounds of cars racing outside, cold, and grogginess.
It was all around me, too cold and too concentrated. I pulled my sheets over me tightly, securing the edges so I wouldn't feel the cold much. Then slowly, the pounding headache began to register, and a stifled muscle.
The sound of my alarm ringing from my phone beside me caught my attention. It was then that everything was finally returning to me. I had gone to a party last night, which had turned into a complete disaster, and one I do not wish to revisit. The pounding in my head was a sign of the loud booming music that had snagged my ears yesterday, the sweaty bodies that pressed to mine, and the hand that had touched me.
Then the long, long night of discussing football with a stranger...no, with Tabitha, who was surprised that my idea of getting a drink involved a cocktail.
The alarm tone increased. I pushed the sheet away, stretching my hand towards the phone and cutting off the alarm. It was 7am, which means it was time for my morning exercise.
However, the movement caused me to slowly realize my current situation. Last night, I slept in the clothes I went out with. And I hadn’t gone through with my night routine. I was covered in nastiness. Dirt. Sweat. Germs. Bacterias. I didn't even brush or floss my teeth last night, which automatically means my mouth is forming an ecosystem of germs and bacteria dancing a game of dominance.
Missing a routine means I'm not in control. It means that I have not even the slightest control over myself and my body. It means that the little grip I thought I had over myself never existed. And I hate knowing that. I hate it.
It suddenly felt as though I couldn't breath, and the insistence pounding in my head doubled over. My hands shook as I stared down at my body, recalling all the sweaty bodies that had pressed to mine, the numbers of times Tabitha had touched me unknowingly while laughing. My skin crawled, and a tingling sensation worked up to my arms, causing me palpitations.
I knew I was on the verge of panicking, because missing a routine isn't something I normally do. And I knew, knew without a doubt that I'd spend the rest of today feeling irritated with everything and everyone.
Just how many germs had I brought to this bed I'm still lying on? It seems that my knowledge of missing a routine has made me immobile, which again means that I have no control, whatsoever, over my body. And I hate it. I absolutely hate it.
'There are no bacteria dancing in your mouth, or germs on the bed, Sher.'
I ignored Robyn and finally willed my body to move as I shot up in bed, my entire being focused on running straight to the bathroom. Floss, brush, practice smiling, shower, pajamas. Floss, brush, practice smiling, shower, pajamas.
How in the world did I even manage to sleep in this?
I got to the bathroom and stood before the mirror, taking in the way my braids were scattered from the bun I made last night. The kohl dabbed on my eyes that seemed to have run, my dry parted lips, and my shaking fingers.
I had missed a routine. Another surge of panic rushed through me. I had missed a routine. I had missed a routine.
As I struggled to settle the rising panic in me, I began to count, all twirling with the ring on my finger.
I was overcome with the desperate urge to go over my night routine, but that would automatically mean I disrupt my morning routine.
'Now, I know you hate missing a routine. But can today be an exception? We are getting banged up later and I'd like to think today is a little bit different than the other days. Safe to say we can move forward with today's schedule?' Robyn whispered, yawning. ‘Sometimes, we can't control what has already happened, like this situation. Both of us were exhausted when you got home hence the slip up. But we can avoid it today by focusing on the task at hand, right?'
Sure. I nodded without answering. I can't afford messing up two routines.
So, I settled into my morning routine. Brush. Wash my face. Tied my braids back into a fitting bun. Stripped out of my last night's clothes and put on a pair of my exercise clothes. Since I wasn't home, I usually play music, clasp my headphones over my ears and exercise for an hour before I do anything else.
I stepped back into the living room, drank a glass of water and put my headphones on. Then I tapped on my phone and scrolled through my playlist till I stopped before the new one I made yesterday and clicked on it, the exact time the time read 7:30am.
I made it.
For the next hour and a half, I exercised, sweating and panting hard in the living room. Exercising always helps me, and during that time, I block out all thoughts and simply focus on myself. Focus on the feelings exercising evokes in me. I focus on the panting, the movement of my muscles and tired limbs, and I just exhilarate in the feeling till my alarm rings, signaling the end of my workout.
Then I took a long calming bath, resting my sore muscles in the hot water, while reminiscing on last night. How I had laughed without faking it. How I had spoken freely without second thoughts. Because we were discussing football, and it was something I loved heart and soul.
And then there's Tabitha, whom I can't really figure out but who automatically intrigues me. We did exchange contacts, but I'm sure I wouldn't call or text her. Because I'm scared she'd leave me after a while too. Natasha has been the only one that has stayed for two years plus with me.
Not wanting to drift into that part of my life, the part where I hardly have friends that stay for long, I washed myself up and stepped out of the bathroom. It was already 9am by the time I pulled on a big cotton shirt over my head and ordered breakfast. I have a meeting by 10, and I wanted to at least have some alone time to go through the files before I present them to the king later.
'So, I just remembered this. Would our mate feel any pain when we are...you know...' Robyn asked, sounding a bit off. 'Last time we did, I didn't bother to ask about this but it just dawned on me if he'd feel it.'
'Does it bother you if he would?' I asked quietly, taking a bite of my chocolate pancake.
'Why would it? I was wondering if he'd feel the pain and I thought that may be unfair to him. He did leave us and all, but we've never felt any pain of him being with someone.'
I rolled my eyes, completely ignoring her till I was done with breakfast. 'I didn't know you care about him this much.'
Robyn growled, so loud that the sound made me wince. Before she bared her teeth and snarled angrily. ‘You know exactly how I feel about that excuse of a mate. But that doesn't mean I want us to stoop to the same level as him. I was simply worried to clear my conscience, not because I care about him one bit.’
I kept quiet. Robyn hardly gets angry with me, but when she does get angry, it means I had pushed her too hard. So I kept quiet without saying anything, and waited for the rage I felt vibrating from her to calm down.
‘I think it'll be fun if he feels the pain,’ I mumbled, clearing the plates I used. ‘At least, he'd realize that we care just as much as he did - which is not at all.’
Robyn’s silver eyes shone with a glint I hadn't seen since I woke up. ‘Now why didn't I think of it this way?’ She grinned. ‘It's like indirectly telling him ‘fvck off cause I'm having a life of my own and I don't need you,' she shook her black fur and looked at me. ‘I hope whoever this man is makes this as good as possible, enough to evoke real emotions and reactions from you. Either way though, I know I'm going to enjoy myself.’
I chuckled, as I began getting dressed for the meeting. ‘For your sake, I hope I enjoy this, Robyn. The first two encounters weren't as fun as possible, and I find myself really dreading today’s meeting.’
Robyn blinked. ‘Now I'm getting worried. If those wolves couldn't make us feel good, how sure are we a human can? I mean, both wolves we were intimate with were ranked wolves, not even Omegas like me.’
Oh, Robyn. She's truly invested in this, and for her sake like I said, I wish this turns out well. After all, we are going back home tomorrow.
My phone rang from the living room just when I was done buttoning my ankara blouse. I sighed, knowing exactly who was calling. She didn't call yesterday, she was definitely bound to call today.
I dropped two braids on either side of my face, then made a bun with the rest in the middle of my head. I was dressed in a blue and white floral ankara, with black silk attached to the neck and sleeves. Ankara was my favorite type of clothing, regardless of the situation. It was the one thing I didn't try to mimic from others.
From the way I spoke sometimes, to the way I act, to the way I eat, or what I eat sometimes, all weren't what I enjoy doing. But things I copied. And I never asked why some things are done in a certain way. I just observe and copy. That’s how to get along in this world
The ringing of my phone increased, and I knew Ammi wouldn't stop till I picked the call. I stalked back to the living room, picked my phone and answered the call.
“Ammi. Nyallijam (Good morning),” I greeted in our native language. As an Ngunlian, I take pride in my culture, even if I didn't grow up in our pack.
“Jam, Bingel. Na shori? Jam wala? (Morning, Bingel. How are you? How was your night?”
“It was fine, Ammi,” I sat on the couch beside me. “And you?”
“I miss my daughter. The house is too big without you.” Ammi sighed.
“Well, you can always go back and bring Addah home to you. You always say you missed us,” I replied.
“Kul! Don't say that. Your sister is happily married.”
“Being married doesn't mean she forgets her family though,” I grumbled, still bitter at how my sister had treated us. Ever since she got married four years ago, she never visited, nor called. And when Ammi calls, she hardly picks up. And when she does, she says she's always busy.
I don't want to hate her, hate is a strong word, but the beautiful relationship we once had was slowly slipping through the cracks. And I hated it too.
“Have you eaten?” Ammi asked, and I knew she was deviating from talking about Tanaya. She always does that. Always tries to avoid talking about my sister.
“Yes, Ammi. And I have a meeting in the next 20 mins.”
“Are you taking care of yourself? Make sure you eat and sleep well. I don't like that I'm not close to you to take care of you, but I'll continue keeping tabs till you get home. Wear warm clothes when it is cold and…”
“I am on the spectrum, Ammi, not paralyzed,” I cut her off, sounding a bit harsher than I intended.
Silence strained between us, and I found myself unable to say anything anymore. Ever since we got confirmed that I was on the spectrum when I turned 18, Ammi had changed. She treats me like I am incapable of taking care of myself. And I know, I do know it's only because she cares, but I can't help feeling irritated. Although, Ammi had always treated me with extra care since before the diagnosis. But after that, it got worse. The extra care was suffocating.
I hate it when people treat me differently, or call me that. Hate it when they look at me with pity, with those judging eyes. Just because I am autistic doesn't make me any different from them. We are all either wolves, or humans. And I'm the same. Being on the spectrum doesn't make me different, and I've been struggling to prove that to everyone.
But it doesn't seem to work, because the moment I think I made a friend, and thinking that we vibe together, I lose that person, and I can't point out why that always happens.
“I'm sorry,” I mumbled quietly. “I just don't like it when you treat me this way and…”
“I'm sorry too. I just still haven't gotten used to it.”
“Does it make it hard for you that I'm autistic?” I asked, despite dreading the answer.
Ammi gasped. “Bless you, Nyala. Of course not, Sherneil. Never.”
I swallowed, without realizing that something had been blocking my throat.
“And I'm sure, if your Abbi was here, he wouldn't care too. We love you just the way you are.”
My Abbi. My late Abbi.
“Thank you, Ammi. I need to go now,” I said quickly before I gave in to the sad emotions engulfing me. “I'll call you before I sleep. Take care.”
“I love you, Bingel.”
I slipped my phone from my ears and sighed. At least, that went better than I imagined.
‘I can't wait for Ammi’s hugs,’ Robyn smiled. ‘I miss them.’
‘I miss them too,’ I admitted, and at the same time my phone vibrated with a message. It was from Natasha.
‘Hey! A little emergency came up so Aiden and I can't attend the meeting. How about we reschedule it till you return? Apologies for the change in plans. I am so sorry.’
I didn't mind. Because to be honest, I wanted to give a live report not through a zoom call. So it's all well with me. I typed back the response before I decided to go out for another round of sightseeing. One last time before I leave tomorrow.
‘You are handling today better than I thought you would. You are doing great, Sherneil. As always.’ Robyn complimented me, something warm tickled in me. There's always something comforting at getting complimented.
**
Wet sweaty hands, a thundering heart, and an ecastic wolf. All were sensations drowning me at the same time. Sensations I couldn't control.
I was at the small diner overlooking the hotel I was lodging in. We agreed to meet there at exactly 8:30pm, and I have been here since 8pm.
I had showered, shaved my legs, brushed my teeth, not that I planned on kissing anyone. But I did either way. And the worst part? I had let Robyn coerce me into putting on makeup, albeit a simple one. Just some kohl in my eyes, a mascara, and a nude lipstick. Dressed in a similar ankara, only that this time it was red with black floral designs. It stopped at my knee, and I paired it with black high heels.
The diner was quiet, which was perfect for my raging nerves and the panic threatening to swallow me. I'm here. I'm really doing this. My anxiety grows with each passing second I spent waiting. My muscles were tense, as pinpricks of sensations washed over my skin. ‘It is just a meaningless one night stand. Just a meaningless date.’ I tell myself over and over.
But it didn't help, and it certainly didn't when my skin zapped, as though a bolt of electricity had shot through me, or when my heart doubled on it's pace, or when Robyn, as quiet as she had been since we got here so I could calm down, finally tensed.
‘What is that?’ She snarled, sounding a bit disoriented.
I wish I knew the answer. Wish I knew what caused that sensation, because the last time I felt something like this was two years ago. And it made no sense that I felt it now. Absolutely no sense.
“Hello, beautiful. Are you dining alone?” A voice said from behind, before a handsome man finally stood before me. “I can join you if you don't mind,” he added.
I nodded without thinking. Because I need a distraction from this feeling. I whirled around, taking in the diner, but found nothing out of place, yet, the feeling was still there, and I could feel Robyn begin to get restless.
“Thank you. Can I get you something?”
“Oh, no. Don't mind. I'm waiting for someone. I'll eat when he gets here.” I replied, my voice a bit choked.
I checked the time. 8:35pm. Why was he late?
“My name is Bukar. And you?”
“Sherneil,” I mumbled, shaking my head to get rid of the daze, as I watched his outstretched hand. He wants to shake, but I can stomach only touching one man, and not two. So I shook my head and kept my hands clasped together.
“I can get you a drink from the bar if you want,” he continued, leaning closer as his smoky breath hit my nose. He had his hands stretched towards my face, and I realized he was trying to tuck my braid.
But before either I or Robyn could react, a feral growl tore through the diner, and I found myself looking at a man. A man so big and large that I felt so tiny before him. And he was holding a mask. Same mask my date wore in his picture. By the time I raised my eyes to his, slowly taking in the recognition, my heart clashed loudly against my ribcage, but the words that left his mouth as he gripped Bukar’s outstretched hand in his made my insides turn.
"Your hands touch what's mine and I will fvcking kill you!"