248 Days

February 12th

I was really developing a bad habit for eavesdropping. This time I didn't even try to deny it; I knew I was guilty. Curiosity once again got the best of me. But if you were woken by loud ruckus in the middle of the night and that ruckus was the result of a flustered panic from your very pleasing to the eyes roommate, who had just happened to speak your name, would you too not be curious?

     A light sleeper and my room so close to his, I was instantly woken by the rustling. Initially figuring that Grayson was just planning something for the calendar; I didn't pay the noise much bother. Very briefly the house fell silent again before I was startled by the slamming of Grayson's door. Countless nights he was up at unhealthy hours, but he was always careful, always so quiet. I knew that to make this much noise, even by accident, something had upset him.

     Though I told myself that I wouldn't want to be followed, I waited a few minutes before carefully following him downstairs.

     Stood deep in the living room, hidden by the obscurity of the night, I watched him through the small doorway. Kitchen pendant alight, I watched Grayson make himself a glass of water. Hands trembling as he brought the glass to his pale lips and back down atop the marble countertop, he rested his head in his palms. Dark circles under his eyes, he looked distraught. Part of me felt compelled to go to him, to comfort him, but another part of me fastened my feet to the ground. There was something intimate about comforting someone. I didn't want to get his hopes up; I didn't want to get my hopes up. And would I even know how to comfort him?

     Acutely aware that I looked like a proper creep, standing in the dark, watching Grayson, I was relieved when Claire appeared. Blond brows furrowed in confused fatigue, her gaze fell on Grayson and instantly softened. Quietly, she took a seat on the stool next to his.

     "Nightmare?" she guessed.

     Grayson chewed the inside of his cheeks, staring at the glass in his hands rather than his mother as though he was too embarrassed to answer her question. He was silent for many moments. Eventually sighing in defeat, he nodded.

     "I haven't had one in a while," he admitted sheepishly, voice rough as it reflected his mood. "I've been a little stressed this week."

     "I could tell." Claire smiled half-heartedly.

     While Grayson rolled his eyes lightly at the remark, I frowned. I hadn't noted any kind of different behavior. He was as eager and animated as ever. The idea that he might be stressed had never crossed my mind. Again, I felt guilty. I was positive he'd have noticed if my mood was off. I was an awful friend.

     "It's been four months," he started dreadfully. Instantly his dread washed over me. I was naïve to think, even if just momentarily, that I wasn't the cause of his stress. I was the only problematic aspect of his life. I decided then, that that was the last time I'd eavesdrop. Eavesdropping always lead to guilt, and I already felt plenty guilty.

     "That's nearly half of my 248 days, gone... I really thought I could do it, mom." Blue eyes held such misery that I nearly bolted back to my room. "I feel like I'm getting nowhere. I enjoy doing this; I won't have any regrets if it turns for the worst... But I thought I'd at least be partially successful. Spark a small memory or something."

     "I think you may already be more successful than you think," Claire reassured. "Keep in mind that even if her memory doesn't return, she may stick around to create new ones."

     "May being the key word," he replied solemnly. "Of course, I want her memory to return, but I wouldn't care for her any less if it didn't. But I can't say she'll be alright with never remembering. I see— I understand how much this bothers her." He fiddled awkwardly with his fingers. "I hate that this hurts her, and I can't do anything about it. I know that our relationship may never be as it was, but it's hard— so hard not to fall back into our old ways... You don't understand how difficult it was to walk away that day at the graveyard— I've always been the one to comfort her. She told me everything. But now, when she needed it most, I couldn't even hug her. I feel hopeless." He paused briefly, still fidgeting with his glass. Claire watched him patiently, blue eyes sad.

     "I really miss hugging her," he added with a childish pout, trying to lighten the mood. My cheeks turned pink at the mere thought of Grayson wrapping his arms around my body. "But I can't even so much as pat her shoulder without her nearly jumping ten feet away. I'm afraid to make her uncomfortable, but I'm not used to her being repelled by my touch. I feel like I'm dealing with kindergarten Alexa who thought boys were icky."

     Claire laughed, pupils shimmering in delight. "I really don't think she jumps away because you repel her," she said. The sly spark in her eyes made me wary. "I think she's already developed a crush."

     I had to stifle a gasp of shock and indignance. My face growing an intense shade of red, I forced myself deeper into the living room. Claire had been a blessing these past months, I should have known that she'd soon come to ruin it. Luckily, Grayson had the common sense to think her statement as crazy as I did. He choked on his water, staring at Claire as if she were insane.

     "She thinks I'm the single most annoying person on this planet!" he retorted incredulously.

     Still stood in the corner of the dark room, I nodded vigorously in agreement. I believed Grayson had directly quoted me.

     "She has always thought you annoying," Claire remarked. "In Alexa's book, annoying means endearing."

     I swallowed another indignant grunt. I was prepared to march into the kitchen and defend myself, but I chickened out and made a discrete exit.

     Inching slowly towards the stairs, I noted the blank stare Grayson shot his mother. He blinked once, then another, before finally bursting into laughter. I didn't stay long enough to hear his response following the end of his laughter. I could have sworn I saw Grayson shoot a glance in my direction as I made a beeline for the stairs. Swearing under my breath, I kept running until I reached my room. Heart pounding in my chest and cheeks still flushed, I collapsed on my bed with a loud groan. Claire could not have been more wrong. I did not have a crush on Grayson Ryder... Even in my mind it didn't sound convincing.