Two Birds, One Stone

10. Wonder Walk

Jamie might have been right in saying that he wasn't going to be much fun that week.

The following day couldn't have been more different from the last. Jamie's mood was sour the entire way through; from the moment he got out of bed to the moment he got back in, there was a scowl on his face. Stevie showed the two of us around the city and he hardly said a word.

I was pretty sure he didn't smile once. Whenever we were in the apartment, he stayed holed up in the bedroom -- which meant I avoided the bedroom at all costs. The only reason I had any fun at all was because Stevie was there, but even then, Jamie's mood made the whole day feel overcast.

It was difficult, trying not to get annoyed. I struggled to remind myself that this would pass, and Jamie would come out all the better. That the snappiness was a product of his withdrawal. It would be so much easier to write it off as him just being an asshole.

By the time I had gone to bed that night, laying on my back with a few feet between myself and Jamie, I was relieved that the day had come to an end. I just had to hope that tomorrow, he would do something other than make me want to throw one of Stevie's stilettos at him.

I woke up just a few hours later to the noise of a door shutting. Blinking my eyes drowsily, I pushed myself up so I was sitting and looked around. It was hard to see in the dark with vision that hadn't really focused yet, but I eventually managed to make out Jamie's shape, sat at the edge of the bed with his back to me.

"Jamie?" I muttered, voice heavy with sleep. Jamie jumped slightly and turned around, and I noticed a cup of water in his hand. "Why are you up?"

He raised the cup. "I got thirsty," he said simply.

"Have you been awake this whole . . ." I was cut off by my own yawn, ". . . this whole time?"

Jamie shook his head. "I fell asleep. But then I woke up and . . . yeah."

I reached over to turn on the lamp beside my bed, illuminating the room in dim yellow light. "Is everything alright?" I asked.

"Yeah, I've just been a bit of an insomniac lately," he said with a shrug. "Being clean kinda sucks ass."

I offered a sympathetic smile. "For now, yeah," I said, scooting over so that I was next to him, my legs dangling over the side of the bed. "But you'll be better off in the long run."

He nodded solemnly. "I guess."

"You gonna try and go back to sleep?" I asked. Jamie pursed his lips.

"Maybe, eventually. Not right now, though."

A few seconds of silence. I didn't move from where I was. Eventually, Jamie turned to me and said, "You don't have to stay up with me."

To which I responded, "Do you want me to?"

He seemed taken aback by the question. He turned away, and it was hard to tell, but he might've been blushing a little. "You know I do," he said; his voice was hardly a whisper.

I felt myself smile. "Then I will."

Jamie took me by surprise when he groaned and hung his head, burying his face in his hands.

"What's wrong?" I asked, the worry back in my voice and my expression now.

He raised his head and looked at me. His multicolored eyes were incredulous, as if he couldn't believe that I didn't know.

"I'm sorry," he said, followed by a deep, aggravated exhale. "God, I'm so sorry."

I didn't understand; I shook my head and said, "For what?"