She Ain't From Around Here

20 | sneaking into rooms & party texts

IT WAS ROUGHLY TWO a.m and I shamefully, couldn't sleep. My pills were taken away from me and I was left wide awake on my bed, staring at the ceiling.

I pocketed my phone in my sweatpants and unlocked the front door open. Gently closing it in order not to wake up my sleeping grandmother.

When I exited the house, I walked down the road that leads to the Carson's house.

I arrived at their house and stood gazing at Clint's room's window. Which I guessed was his since I would normally see band posters hanging on the walls during the daytime.

I bit my lip in contemplation before I picked up a small pebble from the ground.
I threw the pebble at his window.

I let a low curse when he didn't respond. I picked another one and threw it at his window.

No response.

I threw another. "Clint." I whisper-yelled. I picked up a pebble from the handful I held in my hand and threw it again at the window.

And another, and another, and another.

"Clint!" I whisper-yelled.

Before I threw another pebble, the lights in the room switched on.
He pulled up the window and yelled in a whisper. "Elaine. What the fuck? It's 2:13 in the morning!" His voice was hoarse and deeper than usual.

"I'm sorry, were you asleep?" My voice didn't sound sarcastic, but I was being sarcastic.

He sighed and grumbled. "What do you want?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I dunno, I'm bored."

Clint groaned in exasperation as he rubbed his temples. "Elaine." He stressed on my name, causing my stomach to knot up. "It's two in the morning. Go. And. Sleep."

I gave a pointed look at him even though he probably couldn't see me properly from up there. "Can't."

His tone was bored and flat. "Why not?"

"You took my pills," I told him.

He thought for a moment, running his hands through his hair before he said. "Look, I can't give them to you. But I will give you just one pill."

I frowned at the answer. "Fine." I agreed.

I walked to the veranda and stood in front of the door, waiting for Clint to open up.

After a while, I stood there, waiting in the cold.

What was taking him so long? I thought.

For a moment I could hear the distant hoot of an owl and the sound of crickets before the door cracked open.
"Come in," Clint mumbled.
When I got in, he gently closed the door and we climbed up a stairway and crept to into a place I assumed was his room.

His room had navy-colored walls with old boy band posters lined on them.

His dresser held a few framed photographs. And the large bed was messy since he got up from it.

Clint came up to me with the container of the sleeping tablets.
He opened the cap and poured one circular tablet into my hand.

Without thinking, I swallowed it dry.

He handed me a bottle of water. "Here."

Without hesitation, I took it and drunk it.
When I was done, I handed the bottle back to him.

He frowned but took it.
"Thanks," I murmur. "I'll just go home now."

I walked to the door and opened it. But just before I walked away, we heard a familiar masculine voice call. "Clint?"