Mark My Words

28 | No Date List

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Rosalie woke up to an aching in her calves. She sat up and immediately crumbled, groaning against the vice-like grip God had on her calf muscles. Cursing, she laid as still as possible, but the charley horse continued for another minute before inevitably fading, and leaving Rosalie too paranoid to move again.

    She slumped back down onto her pillow, hand to her forehead. She felt greasy despite the shower she had the night before. It was Sunday, which meant no practice, and nothing else to work on due to her teachers taking it easy on them for Homecoming. It would just be here, Sami, and... their two guests.

    Rosalie let her eyes follow the trail of sunlight stretching over the living room ceiling. All was quiet in the house. She imagined her mother was already up and about—she recalled Tante Bee suggesting something about the gym that morning, and so her mother was probably long gone on her morning out with Tante Bee.

    Rosalie felt warm from her toes to her shoulders, her face exposed to the chill of the autumn morning. She sniffled a little and turned onto her side, facing away from the light and to the couch she was pressed up against.

    She opened her eyes.

    That wasn't the couch.

    Between Rosalie and the couch was Joanna, bundled up in a bright orange sleeping bag with only have of her head peeking out. Her ginger hair was tangled up into a top knot.

    Rosalie forgot to breathe. Her chest tightened and she thought it was because her heart had stopped, but really, it was because she was inadvertently strangling herself. She swallowed down the nerves, eyes drifting up towards the windows. It was all she could do to keep from blushing up a storm. She had only ever fully witnessed Sami and Ray sleeping, and even then she never lingered. She never thought to look twice at them because it felt intrusive.

    But she wanted to see the way Joanna looked with she slept.

    And that was very, very Not Rosalie.

    She flopped onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She felt the blanket beside her shift, and so she looked and trailed her hand along the lump of Khoshekh beside her, tucked away under the covers.

    She lifted her gaze and sighed. Intent on counter the dots of plaster on the ceiling, she wondered if she was turning into a creep. Everything she thought was gross about mushy couples was starting to feel... desired. She liked having Joanna hold her by the shoulders when they were being announced King and Queen. She sort of wanted to dance with Joanna—of course, not with her entire school watching. She had a reputation! She was the varsity soccer captain! She was top of the class, on track for valedictorian!

    She couldn't...

    She shut her eyes and twisted her mouth into a grimace.

    The fucking deal...

    "Oh, fuck the deal," her hormones screamed.

    In the midst of her combustion, Sami was just waking up. He yawned, arms stretched high. He arched his back and rolled up, pushing his blankets down and tugging his feet out. Isaiah was still asleep on the other side of the couch, their feet tangled together on the center cushion. He unloved the blankets and draped them over Isaiah, who barely moved an inch from where he had his face tucked under a paw-printed blanket.

    Rosalie saw Sami sit up and tipped her head back to watch him stretch his arms up. He maneuvered to the edge of the couch and looked down at where Rosalie was watching.