Tightrope

Midnight

I didn't know what it was about midnight.

Something about the pale light of the moon, or the intoxicating thrill of being awake until the next day that didn't dissipate, despite never going to bed before midnight anymore. Maybe it was because I'd tried to sleep for almost an hour—Knight and Kaelin were already snoring lightly beside me—and all I'd managed to do was tangle the sheets around my legs.

Everyone had been tired after the festivities of the previous night. After Daria's second birthday cake had been passed around, half of our friends had immediately passed out. I was equally as exhausted, but I couldn't coax my mind into exhaustion.

But something within me was unsettled. My mind hadn't stopped whirling since I'd left the beach; Daria's words echoing like a broken record in my mind. It doesn't look like it means nothing.

I looked up at the ceiling. It means nothing. Does it mean nothing? It means nothing. But does it? I harrumphed in annoyance, blowing a strand of hair away from my face. It seemed that the plaster above me had no answers for my questions. Deeply inconsiderate of it.

Kicking at the blankets around my legs, I sat upright with a sigh. Sleep was not coming any time soon, it seemed.

I was not the kind of girl who believed in inaction. I needed to act, to react. I couldn't simply have an epiphany and sit with it, mull it over. I needed to address it immediately. Sleep would not come to me tonight because, in the quiet stillness of midnight, I had come to realise something.

I maybe kind of sort of liked Jace Hartley. And not just as a friend.

I had no idea how, exactly, I felt about him. All I knew was that he had kissed me, on three separate occasions, and all I could think about when he was around was if we would have the chance to do it again.

With a groan of frustration, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. I knew what I was going to do, but I already hated myself for it a little bit.

I padded to the door, giving one cursory glance backwards to ensure that Kaelin and Knight were still asleep, before slipping out into the hallway. The Air BnB had four rooms, and was designed to sleep twelve. There were only ten of us, and no one wanted to miss out on the fun by being stuck in a room alone, so the master bedroom sat empty.

Jace was bunking with Callie and Daria; the two girls shared the double bed, and Jace was in the accompanying single bed. Their room was next to mine. I hesitated for a moment, my hand resting on the doorknob to Jace's room. Did I have to do this? Could I wait until tomorrow, next week, never? Then I thought about lying awake for hours, asking all of these questions to an unhearing ceiling, and I twisted the knob.

The room was dark. I could just make out the steady rise and fall of Daria's chest; Callie was facing away from me, toward the window. Jace's bed was at the far end of the room. He was still and silent.

I didn't have to wake him up. I could leave the room, steal out and return to the warmth of my bed. I knew I would regret this later. But I still stepped further into the room.

I almost immediately tripped over Callie's suitcase, cursing under my breath as the sound reverberated in the silent room. Callie stirred slightly, mumbling something under her breath that sounded suspicious like Alex's name, before falling back into a gentle slumber. I exhaled softly, trying to make as little noise as possible, before creeping over to Jace's bedside.

Now, how to wake Jace in the least terrifying and uncreepy manner? I didn't want him to wake up screaming bloody murder, alerting the girls. Because, really, how could I explain my presence at the Jace's bedside in the middle of the night? Sorry, girls, I was looking for a phone charger under Hartley's pillow. I didn't think they—or Daria, at least—would buy it.