16. Monday

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2016/02/22 Monday

Today I woke up earlier than usual. I thought it might've been because of some kind of God-given alarm like needing the bathroom or being hungry or maybe the sense of impending doom. But, instead, I realized it was because my phone had alerted me of a text from Pete. At first I wasn't all that happy – I had lessons today and I needed every minute of sleep I could get.

Can I see u today? It said. Sweet and simple. Like he hadn't even thought about it at all but (prepare yourself for some Sherlock Holmes deductions) it was 4 in the morning and I knew Pete liked to sleep for as long as he could drag it out. Which meant he'd either woken up early from a nightmare or he'd stayed awake all night up to this point.

The first impression I got from the text was that Pete just wanted to hang out. That it didn't mean anything other than the fact that he didn't have anything to do and I was a friend. But it didn't come with a string of emojis afterwards like texts from Pete usually did which meant that it wasn't just a light visit, he'd likely been having an existential crisis or a mental breakdown when he texted me.

I should've been pissed that he'd woken me, especially on a Monday on a day I had lessons. But I wasn't. Instead I was kind of relieved that he'd decided to text me instead of go through the crisis alone. Whatever crisis it could possibly be. I thought back to Friday, when I'd given him The Boy in Striped Pajamas, and I worried whether he'd had an emotional response to the ending.

I hate the ending myself but I liked it because it started with an alright scene. But I'd never cried or had a mental broken and I'd never felt the need for the comfort of my Best Friend for Life. Maybe because I'd never had one before.

Andbutso, I texted him back in seconds, without even thinking about what I was saying. Lessons today until 2. Free after that. And it was true but I wished that I hadn't told him quite so quickly. I wished that I'd waited a couple of seconds so that Pete didn't deduce the same about me: that I was awake at 4 in the morning because I wasn't.

Pete didn't reply and after half an hour, I fell asleep without meaning to until Gerard woke me at 6 and helped me get showered and dressed before Mr Bowie came around to give me my lessons and check the chemistry homework that I'd struggled with. I wasn't sure whether most of it was right, which was new for me, but I supposed that I'd get the answers today and he'd take me through the steps again if I got anything wrong.

I wasn't looking forward to the lesson and I wasn't looking forward to getting the answers wrong but I was so ready to see Pete again that it didn't matter. I selfishly admit that part of the reason I want to see him again is because I know that, if he's finished reading The Boy in Striped Pajamas, he'll give it back to me.

It's hard to explain why I like The Boy in Striped Pajamas so much but I know that I'm not supposed to. It's almost like Bruno understands me. He repeats the same things over and over and it's like me: reading and rereading The Boy in Striped Pajamas over and over again until I know the book off by heart from cover to cover.

The Boy in Striped Pajamas is almost like a person. Like a child to me, almost. Because no matter what's going on around me the book will always stay the same. And, if it was a person, it wouldn't expect me to talk. It's like a cheaper, better version of Dr Nestor except Dr Nestor wants me to talk and The Boy in Striped Pajamas wants me to listen. g

I prefer to listen because I am usually afraid of what I might say if I say the words out loud. Sometimes when I look at Pete I'm afraid that I might open my mouth and say you're dying. And I'm afraid that he'll be mad at me and then when he does die, eventually, he'll die being mad at me. And then he'll come back as a ghost and haunt me forever and ever.

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