Through the Lens | Dodie Clark

11

/382 days/

I woke from an all too familiar nightmare.

The air surrounding me felt thick as molasses as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I pushed the blankets off my chest and sat up on the couch. Dodie had been sleeping in my room the past few nights. The first two nights I slept on the floor beside the bed. She needed my presence, but hadn't wanted to be touched. Eventually she insisted that I take my bed back. I insisted back. So did she. And so I came to sleep on the couch as a compromise.

I ran my hands through my thick hair, reminding myself to put it into some manageable braids as my fingers snagged on the curls. My fingers sought something else to keep them busy as my heart calmed down. They found the hem of my sleeve and fiddled with the fraying threads.

I felt my way to the kitchen in the darkness, flicking the light switch once it skimmed across my fingers. Light flooded the room and I squinted my eyes as they adjusted. I reached for a glass to fill with tap water.

Movement from across the room drew my gaze. Dodie stood behind the counter. She was wearing my pajamas, her hair tousled.

"What're you doing up?" My voice was hoarse, and I had to cough a few to clear it.

"I could ask you the same thing. And I'm not even the one who has class tomorrow."

I glanced at the clock on the microwave. "I have class today, actually." I sighed, debating on whether or not to tell her about my dream. I decided against it; Dodie had enough on her mind. "I couldn't sleep."

Dodie smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah, me neither."

I realized the tap was still going and turned back to the sink. The water was spilling over the edges. Behind me I heard Dodie tap her fingers on the counter.

I felt itchy. Not in a physical, oh-my-god-when-was-the-last-time-I-took-a-shower kind of way (though I have been there before), but in an emotional way. My mind was filled with static, and my fingers still danced with no purpose.

With the water was still running, I realized that I had been standing there looking at it for a solid minute. I blinked a few times and finally turned it off.

"Do you wanna go somewhere?"

"It's three in the morning."

"I think we could both use some fresh air."

---

"It was so overdramatic. Every time he glanced in her general direction she dematerialized and flung herself into the fourth fucking dimension." We walked together in the dark, occasionally illuminated by a street light, or a group of people out partying too late, using their phone as guides. I was talking about a book I had recently read.

Dodie lifted an eyebrow. "You've never felt like that?"

"You have? I'd call myself very in touch with my emotions, but that's just too much." I shoved back the memories that popped into my mind- myself, crying over the small amount of footage I had of Dodie. The sensation when her fingers skimmed over my skin at our first sleepover. Perhaps I was being a bit hypocritical.

She glanced at me but said nothing.

There was something that felt weird and invasive about walking around at night, sober. I would've felt underdressed compared to the women we were passing in my fish pajamas if not for Dodie, who was wearing penguin pajamas.

"It probably seems like all of my surprises involve this grease trap," I said as we neared Red's.

Dodie laughed. "If this surprise is as good as the last one, I have no problem with it."

I motioned her to follow me around back where they kept the dumpster, which was peculiarly not overflowing with trash. Without a word I heaved myself up onto it.

"Are we dumpster diving? If I'd known, I would've worn something less flashy. I'd hate to ruin these luxurious trousers. They were actually a gift." Though it was dark, I could make out her silhouette as she motioned towards her penguin pajamas.

I whistled, playing along. "There goes my plans. But you're right. You must know some loaded people. I'd die to get my hands on a pair of those."

She shrugged with a barely concealed grin, causing my heart to swell. She hadn't smiled -- hadn't really smiled, since she had been staying with me. I only wish I could've seen it in the full. "I've got friends in high places. One of em' is actually towering over me as we speak, standing atop a smelly bin."

"She sounds classy. I'd love to meet her."

Dodie paused for a moment. "I've got nothing. You outdid me. You were really committed."

I cracked a smile. "Come on. If you're not up to dip your toes, then I guess we could hop onto the roof for a little star gazing." I broke my character as Dodie wriggled herself onto the bin. "Sometimes Tom and I eat lunch up here."

I dug the tip of my shoe into a dip in the wall where the brick was crumbling away, and swung my unused leg over the top. "I'm afraid there's no graceful way of doing this," I said breathlessly, rolling myself onto the roof.

She followed me, and I sprawled out under the sky. "I forgot how disappointing stars are in London."

Dodie sat next to me, her knees to her chest and her chin tilted toward the sky. "What's up with you and Bridget?"

"What do you mean?"

"It seems like you guys haven't talked since I showed up."

We'd talked. She thought it best if she wasn't around for now.

"We're not really serious."

She quirked an eyebrow like she wasn't convinced, but didn't say anything of it. "I think I like girls."

"Oh?" I didn't look at her and tried keeping my voice nonchalant, leaving her room to expand further. My insides unfurled not unlike the threads of my sweater, which my fingers were once again picking at. I felt bad for getting excited. She had just gotten out on a long term relationship -- an abusive one, and I was hoping I had a chance with her.

"I think I like you."