Sleepless (HIATUS)

04. best friends

The sound of locker doors slamming really put me in the mood to slowly drag my face down a cheese-grater. My positive vibes were really not about me right then. Even though I was wearing my NASA shirt today under an open flannel. NASA Shirt Day is always a good day. But not that day, apparently. Spending most of the weekend with Derrick was a good idea. Back to back smoking, and a lot of deep talks. Andie really added something different to our group.

She'd been through more than enough clingy boyfriends, abusive ex's, and plenty of identity crises to be an excellent advice giver. Yet she hardly ever did. She was more in the category of Friends Who Take Your Mind Away From Certain Persons. At the moment, I was refusing to think about him. The phone call, his constant bothering me... I knew I promised myself I'd take Derricks advice, but I was too tired to worry about it right then. My mood was slightly annoyed, but mostly exhausted. This was what Andie liked to call a 'weed hangover'. After getting high, sometimes the next day can really be a downer. You just feel tired and grumpy and out of place.

That was me.

"Alan!"

I turned around without thinking, yawning while doing so and rubbing my eyes. Who was calling me? A hand touched my shoulder, and I shrunk back. I'd turned the wrong way.

It was Austin. His eyes glowed excitedly, nervously, desperately, almost. Instead of my heart racing and hands sweating, though, I just stared at him. My stomach felt like it was going to drop through my knees. We watched each other for a moment, our mouths opening and closing like fish on a boardwalk, trying to think of something to say. I didn't want to talk to him then. I felt like shit.

"Alan- um, I'm really sorry for bothering you," he mumbled, watching me closely. I was an animal that might run away, a nervous deer. "Anyways, I really need to talk to you," he said.

"Again?" I sighed. His face fell, and I bit my lip. All I wanted was to forget his cowardice. His pathetic choices. I was still pissed off, so much.

"Y-yeah. Is there any way we can meet up and talk? I-I don't want to do it here."

"Just say what you have to say and get it over with!" I groaned, grabbing shit out of my locker and feeling slightly like I might vomit. Having him so close...it reignited anger and passion inside me. I hated myself.

"I- I miss you. I miss you so much. And I'm sorry. I fucked up. Just- please- I want another chance. I'll show you, I promise. I won't screw it up again."

I stared at him with a bored expression, but my chest was feeling tight. There was something inside me that wanted badly to give in. In my mind, quickly, I weighed the pros and cons, debated with myself, and reviewed everything. His brown hair was a mess. It distracted me.

It looked so soft. My palms sweated, then, and my heart sped up. I had to tilt my chin to look up at him, still. The way these memories flowed, like little streams in my mind. Seeping into the cracks, dripping everywhere. I couldn't forget the way he felt against me. My head wanted to lean into the lovely crevice between his neck and shoulder. Home.

Sucking my breath in, I shrugged. I had no idea what to say. He reached out, touching my arm lightly, but it felt like red hot fire on my skin. I slapped his hand, shrinking away and backing up.

"No. Don't touch me."

It was like our bodies were in a halfway place, separate from the hallway, the sound of people moving back and forth. An air bubble in the ocean full of havoc.

"I'm sorry!" he blurted, looking antsy and subconsciously coming closer. "I need us to be friends, at least. I need to show you things."

"What are you talking about?" His eyes were frantic.