Opposite Ends

Y/N | October 1985

The terror filled scream frozen on my lips, ripped me from the depths of sleep. I clutched the damp tangled sheets around me as I gasped for air, my racing heartbeat pounding in my ears. I squinted across the dark room to the alarm clock on my dresser, the luminous face read '04.58'. Sinking back down onto the mattress, I pulled a sweaty strand of hair from my mouth as my breathing slowed to its normal pace. I had the opening weekend shift at family video this morning. It was one of the few shifts that Steve, Robin and I were all working, given that it was a Saturday and our busiest hours. Over the past few months, working the weekend had become one of my favourite pastimes, keeping track with Robin over how many girls Steve struck out with, fighting over who got to pick the morning movie and challenging each other to stacking competitions. Steve would be here soon after daybreak, in his deep maroon BMW to pick me up. We carpooled together since Robin couldn't drive.

Giving up on sleep entirely, knowing that it eluded me and there was no point in staring at my grey peeling ceiling for the next three hours, I rolled out of bed, the cold morning air hitting my exposed thighs and sending goosebumps up my whole figure. The thick carpet muted my footsteps as I made my way to my closet, pulling a dressing gown off the hanger. It was one of the only items of clothing that wasn't currently decorating my floor. The house was dead silent except for Dustin's soft snores echoing down the hallway. I peeked out my open door to watch his relaxed frame sprawled across his duvet, half sliding off of the bed. His Walkie Talkie was laying askew on the floor, next to his open twitching hand, like he had fallen asleep with it still clutched in his grasp. I tip toed quietly into his room to pick it up gently and place it upright on his desk, sliding down the antenna. Knowing that if the crackly voices of his friends shrieked though it, it would scare the living day lights out of him and cause him to topple right out of bed, waking up the whole neighbourhood with his profanities. I gently brushed his overgrown hair out of his eyes as his hot breath hit my hand, he looked so incredibly young in sleep, much like the baby-faced 11-year-old that would follow me and Nancy around as we laughed and ran away. My heart clenched painfully as I reflected on how complicated life was now, I had thought Dad leaving was the biggest curveball life would throw at us. God was I wrong.

Dustin had come to apologise to me after showing Eddie to the front door, by the time his incessant knocking had annoyed me enough to let him in, I was too buzzed to even care about the ordeal. He scrutinized me up and down concerningly, confused how I had gone from bat shit crazy to super mellowed out so fast as I spread across my floor. The fresh rain hammering against the half-opened window, washing away any lingering smell the weed had left in the air.

In the blatant rawness of the cold morning air, guilt washed over me as I remembered my behaviour last night. What had happened with Jason wasn't Dustin's fault, nor was it even Eddies. As unnatural as it felt to feel bad over my reaction to his presence in my room, the moment where we had been standing toe-to-toe, practically breathing in each other, hadn't stopped replaying over in my head since I had shoved him through my bedroom door. He had even made a guest appearance in my dream last night, sitting on the end of my bed just watching me with those dark soulful eyes of his, making me feel very vulnerable as I burrowed beneath the flimsy sheets of my bed in just my underwear. Before my suffocating nightmare dragged me beneath its devastating depths, disallowing me to resurface for hours.

I silently left Dustin's room, pulling his door behind me to submerge him in darkness, one of us deserved a sleep in at least. My feet slapped against the cold tiled floor of our one shared bathroom as I headed to splash my face, hopefully washing the remaining traces of my nightmare away with it. Remembering last night at the gas station, it took me a beat longer than necessary to look in the mirror. I sighed with relief as my own red ringed eyes stared back sadly at me, no black lines lurking anywhere on my face. I twisted the cold tap on, damping a washcloth to hold to my eyes in the pathetic hopes of diminishing the puffiness there.