Photo by Brandon Woelfel

There’s Sunflowers in New York

Cheyenne Noelle
Aug 24, 2017 · 3 min read

White light poured into the apartment, illuminating the walls, the rusted light fixtures, the layer of dust that was collecting slowly but surely over the trinkets adorning the furniture. Saylor looked to her left, finally acknowledging the sweaty body panting heavily on the bed beside her.

“That was so good,” Lennox exhaled, finally opening his eyes and tilting his head to the right.

Saylor smiled wide and giggled. Lennox nodded and smiled back at her, turning back and resting his arm on his face, closing his eyes again.

It had been maybe two months, two months of extravagant sex and public outings full of pizza and PDA. There was something so genuine yet so innocent about their love — on and off, knowing one another for years, only to wake up and find one day they grew up and actually looked somewhat attractive. Something had changed… suddenly he was cute and not so awkward, lanky, and clumsy. Saylor stared at Lennox, his brown freckles sprinkled over a perfectly chiseled abdomen.

The comedown from the orgasm transformed her moment of bliss into a sudden headache. He needs to know, her inner voice reminded. How much longer could she hold in the truth? It was beginning to eat at her. Saylor opened her mouth slightly.

“I never got my period.”

Lennox opened his eyes again. “Wait, what?

“Yeah, it was supposed to come last week. It’s been a week now, babe.”

Saylor turned towards Lennox. “… Maybe it’s just running late? I mean, I have been hella stressed lately with work. Shit’s getting hectic at the office.”

Her boyfriend didn’t look convinced. “But you’re on birth control, Saylor. Isn’t that supposed to cover that shit?”

Lennox turned away from her, choosing the wall as a better focal point. He looked perplexed. Saylor’s face fell. She knew it wouldn’t be great or pretty, but not this disappointing. She felt vulnerable, exposed even. Her hands grew clammy, suddenly reached for the worn T-shirt that was crumbled up near her feet.

“I just wanted to be honest with you,” she said, pulling his faded Pratt tee over her head.

Lennox tore his eyes from the ceiling, green eyes falling on his girlfriend. “You know I love you, right? I’m just shocked, Saylor, just out of it.”

He sat up and moved to the side of the bed, swinging his long, muscular legs out of their bed. Saylor stared at his back, the nautical star in the center of his shoulders looking daunting for some reason rather than stunning. He leaned over and found his clothes, slipping his garments over his body.

“I need some time.”

Now it was her turn to sit up. “Are you kidding me?”

“No, I’m not fucking kidding you, Say! I just gotta think right now, alright?”

Saylor found her underwear and shorts. “Alright, Lennox. I love you.”

“Yeah…” His voice trailed off. Lennox sighed heavily, turning on his foot for the door. He left Saylor standing in in the middle of their apartment in Astoria, door closing dramatically behind him. His footsteps echoed in the hallway outside of their home. How could things have gone so horribly wrong in less than five minutes? Saylor was bewildered. She walked over to their couch they bought together last spring, hand moving over her stomach. Saylor closed her eyes, trying to swallow the lump that was growing in her throat. She leaned over to the coffee table to pick up her phone. Within seconds, her mother was on the other line.

We are doing well, Mom. I swear, everything was just fine.


// Dig it? Tell me why. Let’s connect here, here, and here. I’m a writer, content strategist, and avid musichead. Feeling chatty? Drop me a line at cheyennenoelle@yahoo.com!

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Cheyenne Noelle

Written by

“The disciplined in life are free.” 🌊 Happy mum. Believer. Writer. Lover of humans. Content Marketing @processmaker

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