A book about a girl who is crazily in love, and a boy who is crazily aloof.
--
Saira's mind always travelled between realms of her own world. Sometimes it's about the existence of a parallel universe where she imagined trees to be purple, sometimes...
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"He got your number?" Peter mused, looking at me with a raised brow, pausing removing his hoodie, which was now stuck at his elbow, revealing a white tee underneath.
I nodded my head giddily, folding my legs on by bed.
"Wow," he chuckled looking at the ceiling of my room.
"I just don't know what to text him," I said with an exhale and fell back on my bed. "Which would be stupid to think about 'cause I don't have his number. I really hope he texts me though."
Peter remained quiet, looking like he was lost in thought. He must be feeling low since he wasn't talking like he usually does since morning.
I got up and hugged him from the side, seeming to have startled him.
"You good?" I mumbled.
He smelled familiar, like the boy I met when I was eight. He had to mature earlier than the rest of us. He no longer laughed as much as he used to, he worked more than one part time job, always at the top of the class, puts in a lot of effort for anything; be it football or an english test.
I heard him sigh.
"I'll take that as a no," I said and his hands came around to return my hug.
The strip lights in my room emitted a faint yellow colour, something I've never wanted to change, and I could hear my brother flicking through Netflix, trying to pick a movie from the recommendation list.
"Thanks," Peter mumbled, starting to pull away.
"Do you have a headache again? You were a little off since morning," I trailed off.
"Yeah," he pulled away completely. "Yeah, I'm fine, just a migraine."
"Let's get it checked, you've been saying the same thing for a week," I tugged his hand.
"No, it's probably just stress," he said, trying to escape from the conversation.
"No, we're going, tomorrow, I'll ask my dad and fix an appointment."
"No, Sai, just it's probably nothing." He said, walking around my room to switch off the fan. "Let's watch a movie and eat. Isn't that your thing?" He asked with a small smile.
I frowned.
"Come on, don't overthink it," he groaned.
"You just underthink it." I muttered. "We're going tomorrow, my treat."
"How is going to the hospital 'my treat?'"
"Cause I'm willing to take you," I stated, climbing down the stairs.
"I don't need you to take me, Sai."
"Tough luck," I mumbled.
Aryan was scrolling through Netflix, clicking on the trailer of every movie in our watchlist. Yes, we share our Netflix, contrary to popular belief, considering our varying movie taste, which is why we asked Peter to choose a movie.
"This is what you chose? Seriously? Pete, I didn't know you were a soft guy," Aryan teased jokingly, falling onto the couch beside him with a thud, looking the title; La La Land.
I rolled my eyes.
Boys and their dumbass expectations.
"Dude just take a look at your watch list, Princess Diaries, seriously?" Peter mocked Aryan, throwing a popcorn on him.
"What? I was jokiiiing, and it's not my watchlist!"
"It literally says AryanTheCoolestTitan."
I watched my brother and best friend bicker back and forth and fell into a comfortable slumber.
I hope Zeke texts me.
--
I woke up because my phone was buzzing.
How does that wake somebody up?
(Literally happened to me when I was sleeping and my phone went off buzzing at 2 am, it was my best friend going on about Attack On Titan which is the dopest).
I woke up lazily with an annoyed grunt and felt around for my phone.
Only then I realized that I was in my room. I was pretty sure I felt asleep on the couch downstairs.
I slowly stood up with my phone in hand and tiptoed downstairs to drink some water and paused abruptly when I heard voices.
"You should tell her duuuude, I think she deserves to know," I heard my brother say.
"I guesssss so, I'll just wait," Peter replies.
Okay, what's up with those two? They're being too secretive. What could they be talking about at two in the morning?
I slowly peek inside my brother's room and covered my nose quickly, to prevent the smell of booze from making me puke. The entire vicinity stank of it.
I see Aryan and Peter lying down on the floor facing the ceiling, each with a vodka bottle in hand. There were a lot of empty beer bottles lying around too.
They looked like two idiots.
I opened the door and let my presence be known.
"Saaaaai, heeeeey, want some? But shhhh don't tell mom and dad," Aryan clumsily placed a finger on his lips, lifting the vodka bottle in the other hand.
I looked at Peter who just stared at me.
He looked different, like he was caught in a daze.
"Alcohol? Fine, just don't tell me you're high," I mutter, crouching between them and grabbing the bottles from their hand.
"We're noooot," Aryan drawled and hit Peter's arm. "Bruh tell her."
I looked at Peter for conformation who just remained staring at me.
I sighed.
Two drunk and hopeless idiots.
"I'll get some water," I mutter and carry out the bottles from the room and head downstairs to the kitchen, trying to make as less noise as I could.
I empty the bottles and cover them up and throw it in the dumpster.
Where did they even get these? I know for sure my dad doesn't drink.
I heard something hit the door with a soft thud when I was filling the glass with water.
I saw Peter leaning on the threshold of the door, with his hands in the pocket. I went back to filling the glass with water, determined to lecture him.
"Okay, first off, I don't think you should be standing right now, you're just drunk beyond the world judging from the amount of bottles around the room, and I know Aryan's a lightweight so I know you drank-"
Peter was hugging me. Tightly.
I felt him rest his forehead on the back of my head.
"Pete?"
"Hmm?"
"You okay?"
I turned around to look at him.
He seemed so... lost.
He breathed through his nose and rested his forehead on mine, looking at me with an unreadable look in his eyes.
He looked lost, lost about something he knows. He knows what it is, but he doesn't know what to do about it. That's what I could comprehend from his greyish blue eyes.
He was staring at me, looking in my eyes just as I was.
