Signed /Dream Team/

15

Imagine working 8 hours every night for 5 days in a row, seeing the daylight for 2 hours only because you need food and water to survive, working out for an hour, showering, and sleeping the rest of the day. And now imagine it's Saturday and the routine finally breaks.

I never thought I'd miss people that live in the same house with me, but I barely got to see them for 5 days and started feeling lonely. I like their company way more than I should, and the fact that it's been 2 weeks and they're still here is the biggest proof.

You know I'm desperate for company when I ask Nick to come to the grocery store with me. And you know he's scared of being kicked out when not only he agrees, but also doesn't let me pay.

On our way back I get a random urge to say something. And I do it in the middle of an unrelated conversation too, which makes things even weirder.

"I really like your company," the words spill out of my mouth.

Nick doesn't seem amused. He's just confused cause it came out of the blue.

"Well, thanks, I really like yours," he smiles, his voice energetic as always.

We continue walking for a few more seconds before I speak again.

"We're friends, right?" My eyes are focused on the pathway, "Like even if you find a place to stay and leave tomorrow and I call you in a week, you'll pick up, right?"

I don't know where those questions are coming from. I think the drastic change in my sleeping habits made me go insane.

He looks at me, more confused than ever. And I don't blame him. I'd look at myself confused if there was a mirror.

"Of course.. I'll pick up your call any day, Ana," I feel like Nick's words are genuine. Even though I'm not looking at his face, I feel like I'd see honesty in his eyes if I did.

"Sometimes I think that you're being nice to me only because you have nowhere to go and I get sad," I don't know why I shared that, "maybe I'm right and it's logical if you are doing that, but it'd be nice to have real friends."

I would cry if I could, but I think I don't know how to. The last time I cried was when my mom was cutting onions 14 years ago. I didn't even cry when she cut me and my brother off the next day.

"Wh..why would you think that?" I think I made him nervous with my sentimental confessions.

I shrug, remembering all the times people took advantage of my kindness and left me alone when I needed them the most. I think I have the right to think that.

"I don't know... just saying that it would suck," I finally look up from the ground and see his saddened eyes. I don't think I ever saw him this sad.

"I'm sorry.." Nick sounds very different from usual. I can't tell.. it's not even sadness, I don't know what it is.

"It's okay, you didn't do anything," I chuckle softly. The last thing I wanted was to make him feel bad for me. I just suck at communicating, I overshare or don't share at all, there's no in-between.

He sighs at my words, "Remind me to give you a hug when we get home."

I don't respond, I just smile and the rest of our walk is pretty much silent. He only speaks when we're almost there.

"Hey, take these home with you, I'll be there in a bit," I see that someone's calling him, and looks like it's an important call.

I quickly grab the grocery bags he'd been holding this whole time and nod, making my way up the stairs cause I don't want to use the rotten elevator. And it's quite a workout with these weights, I think I won't go to the gym today.

Once I get there, I remember the last time I knocked on the door and waited for an eternity for them to open, and decide to use my keys this time. I unlock the door, get in, close the door, put the bags on the floor so that I can take off my sneakers. And that's when I hear unusually loud noises from the kitchen.

I think it's a human instinct to try to secretly figure out what's going on. At least that's how I try to rationalize my actions of tip-toeing towards the kitchen and leaning back to the wall so that I can listen to the voices.

"I thought you didn't care about her?" I can tell that it's George's voice for countless reasons.

"Who said I do?" And that one is Clay.

"Well if you don't, then stop being a bitch," I frown at George's words.

Is he being mean to Clay because he's crying about his ex again?

"You don't get it," Clay laughs, "maybe if it happened to you, you would."

"Yeah, but you know what? It didn't happen to me. Cause I'm smarter-"

"Never say never, George," Clay cuts him off, "and I don't care. You're the one who keeps bringing her up. Just let me be, I don't fucking care."

I hear that George is saying something, but it's mostly unintelligible so I try to lean closer to the wall. All I hear are footsteps though, and before I realize where those footsteps are headed, I gasp from a sudden touch.

"Now that's not nice, is it?" Clay pins my forearm to the wall roughly as he towers over me.

I'm trapped between him and the wall and my heartbeat is the only thing I can hear. He's so much taller, his shoulders are so broad, I actually feel like I'm trapped between two walls, and of them knows how to talk.

"I- I was- I'm sorry-" I couldn't lie and say that I wasn't eavesdropping.

"If I were you," he leans down, and somehow it's scarier than seeing him at his full height, "I'd be careful."

I don't realize what's happening until I hear George telling Clay to fuck off and see Clay glaring at me before leaving.

"What did you hear?" George's words are more aggressive than I thought they'd be.

I widen my eyes when he comes closer and stands in the same spot Clay was seconds ago. But he's way softer, I'm more nervous than scared.

"Nothing." I lie.

He sighs, the tension of his muscles decreasing as his face softens.

"Are you okay? Let me see," he gently holds my hand to look at the massive red print Clay's grip left on my skin. It doesn't hurt or anything, my skin is just easily irritated.

What hurts more is my heart which feels like it's gonna explode from his touch. The way he's holding my hand and softly brushing his fingertips over the red mark raises goosebumps all over my skin, making me pull my arm back before my body gives too much away.