when dreams come true

chapter 10 || a conundrum

    I woke up in the middle of the night. I knew because it was still fairly dark outside from what I could see from the little gap in the curtain. Just as I was about to sit up, I heard a noise which I realized was what woke me. There were faint footsteps, which receded away from the slightly ajar door to Calvin's bedroom, then began to return in this direction.

I can't say I don't believe in ghosts, because I feel like I must. And right now, other than the possibility of that being Calvin or his parents, it was completely acceptable for me to assume it was some otherworldly being lurking in the corridor.

I peeked up from the covers, my mind still in a sleepy state, and tried to recognize the person standing there. Or ghost. Or whatever.

It was Calvin, thank God, but something seemed wrong. He hesitated at the door; kept pushing it open and entering, then shaking his head fervently and stepping out again. He was caught in a confusing conflict, mind pent up with frustration.

He looked desperate and tired.

I sat up. And slowly got out of bed and padded towards the door. I stood a few feet away and watched him as he leaned on the wall in the corridor, hands running through his hair. He didn't look like he'd slept at all, and I think it was probably 4 AM by now.

I could see the exhaustion weighing him down, his face drooping and tired, his eyes red around the edges. He seemed to be struggling to hold himself up. I was afraid he might collapse. He looked in dire need of sleep, but also wide awake.

And I understood what was happening.

Insomnia. He had insomnia. I've seen this before, and it's not hard for me to immediately recognise it.

And right now, it was terrible. Last night had been rough for both of us. I was still drowsy; I could only imagine what he was going through.

"Calvin?" I asked quietly, cautiously- hoping to avoid surprising him. His head jerked up and dull green eyes met mine. My heart squeezed. He was beautiful, so beautiful. Even if he was on the verge of collapsing, he managed to look effortlessly handsome.

What was this boy doing to me?

"Ashley? Why're you awake? Something wrong?" his voice was gruff and tired.

"Uh, no. I'm fine. What's wrong with you? Why haven't you slept?" I asked him, my eyes running over his lifeless state.

He gave me a small smile, just a slight lift of the corners of his lips. He pressed his palm against his temple and closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again and stared at me once more.

"Well, I'm an insomniac. Plus, a complete mess. And also a boy who worries about his -mother, when it should be the other way around."

He chuckled humorlessly, and I saw him look down at himself like he was the biggest failure in the world. I didn't know what to say. It scared me how much we shared, how we both undermined ourselves.

But I couldn't even think of anything wrong about him, not when he seemed to be the only right thing in my life right now.

"Where's your mom?" I inquired, my voice laced with concern.

"She's out. It happens. She usually texts or tells me. But she forgot tonight, so I'm just waiting for her to get back safely."

"You don't think she'll be okay? I mean, she's older. More responsible- er- maybe," I said. Really, Ashley?

He shook his head slowly. He opened his mouth to say something, and I think for a moment he forgot I was there, listening. But then he quickly looked back at me and closed his mouth. His jaw clenched, and I suddenly knew there was more to this than I knew. And obviously, he didn't want me to know.