At the Right Time

Chapter Four

Maxwell ~ Six years ago

It's been two weeks since Rylie saw me in the bathroom. I was mean to her, and have been since, but I don't care. That's what she gets for barging in.

No one gets to know my secret. Not even those closest to me. And definitely not my little sister's best friend.

So, as I'm lying here, listening to her whining scream for the tenth night in a row, I'm unsure what to do. I should go check on her. My room is beside hers, and I doubt anyone else in the house can hear her.

She has woken me up at three AM the last several nights. It's getting old quick.

Sighing, I get out of bed. I can't keep being exhausted at morning practice because of her.

I walk into her dark room, unable to see much except the form of her body squirming in the sheets.

Now that I'm actually in here, I can hear that she's crying.

The way her breath is hitching and her sobs are coming out, it sounds like she's pleading for something. Against my will, my chest tightens. Whatever her nightmare is about, it must be rough.

I know her mom died of an overdose. My mom told me before she moved in, but up until then I had no idea she'd had it so badly at home.

"Rylie!" I whisper-yell, hoping that's enough to wake her.

Should I wake her? Isn't it bad to wake someone who is having a nightmare? Or is that sleepwalking? Whatever.

"Rylie!" I repeat, walking a little closer. Nothing.

I reach down and shake her gently, then a little harder when she still doesn't stop her sleeping panic.

"Please." She cries, startling me. "Help! She needs help!"

"Hey, it's okay." I lean down, getting ready to say something else when I realize that she's still asleep. She's talking in her dream, not to me.

"Please!" She screams loudly this time and I wince. If she keeps getting louder, she'll wake the whole house.

"Fuck." I mumble, sliding into bed beside her. This is going to make me look like a creep if she wakes, but I'm desperate for sleep.

I grab her slim waist and pull her against me. She elbows me in the face, and I let out a grunt. I throw my legs over her legs and wrap my arm tightly over her chest, holding her arms down.

"Sh." I whisper. "It's okay. You're okay."

Within seconds she settles, and I'm shocked that it actually worked.

I wait another few minutes to let her get back into a deep sleep, then sneak out of the bed and into my room.

When I flop down onto my bed, her vanilla scent wafts from my shirt. I stare up at the ceiling. Rylie has seen some shit, that much is obvious.

Everyone thinks that I'm just a popular basketball player who the cheerleaders want to date or every body wants be friends with. I let them all think it, because showing them the real me would give them something to hold over my head.

They have no idea.

Only Rylie, and now, I'm the only one who knows about her nightmares.

I guess we each have a secret.