The Cliche Gone Wrong

Chapter Nineteen

Shit I can't believe I fell asleep!

I thought I was just closing my eyes for a second I didn't mean to fucking fall asleep around this guy. I shoot up in the beanbag, dragging a hand over my face to catch any of the drool that was dripping down my chin as I look around frantically. He probably took pictures of me asleep and sent them to his friends. Or even worse, posted it on social media with some horrible caption. I look across from me, hoping to spot him in the beanbag he originally sat in, but he's no longer there.

The son of a bitch fucking left me here!

I look around wildly, trying to figure out where he is and if has abandoned me in this library with no quick way to get home. But then I spot him sleeping in the beanbag right next to mine. He pulled it closer so that the bags are nearly touching each other, and I'm kind of surprised I didn't see him as soon as I woke up. His mouth slightly hangs open as he eyelids flutter every few seconds, either signal that he's dreaming or faking it.

I haven't read any books about signs of people sleeping yet. I should do that next. Oh, I'm already here at the library. I can do that now!

I consider getting up and looking around, but I don't want to leave him here by himself. Instead I pull out my phone and check the bus schedule, seeing that the number 52 heading back toward the restaurant will be coming in 10 minutes. I just relax back into the beanbag, staring up at the dotted ceiling as I wait for him to wake up naturally before I have to shake him awake. Not even a couple minutes later he starts tossing and turning, while he starts mumbling under his breath.

"N—mm— ple—" he whines, his lower lip trembling. "Jus—no, stay—n—"

I sit up in my chair, staring at him as he starts to whimper this time. Are you supposed to wake someone up when they're having a nightmare? Or is that sleepwalking?

But as his whines grow louder and he nearly rolls off of the beanbag I move to crouch down in front of him, one of my hands tentatively reaching out to touch his leg.

"Hey, Shills," I whisper, shaking him slightly. He only turns again, not waking up. So I shake him harder, leaning in closer to speak louder. "Jude, wake up."

He jumps up from the beanbag, knocking me over as he leaps to his feet. He starts looking around frantically, his eyes wide as he tries to figure out where he is. I try to stand up, hoping that I can calm him down.

"Jude, it's okay," I smile at him as I only succeed in getting to my knees, my wrists and butt sore from landing on the ground. "You just fell asleep."

He breathes heavily as he continues to look around, his breaths gradually calming as he refuses to sit. I finally stand up too, tentatively walking closer to him.

"Are you okay?" I ask, watching his chest rise and fall frantically.

After a couple seconds he nods, looking around the room again. "Yeah, can we—umm—can we just go?"

I nod, leading the way out of the area and toward the stairs without another word. I feel him follow behind me, walking unsteadily as he follows me out of the library and to the bus stop. I sit down on the far side of the bench, expecting him to keep as much distance between us as possible but instead he sits right next to me, his leg touching mine as he leans back against the metal barrier behind us. His breathing is closer to normal now, but I can still tell something is bothering him.

"I'm sorry about that," He says after a few minutes, his breathing near normal now. "I guess I was just having a bad dream."

I nod understandingly, turning to look at him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He smiles lopsidedly, a shadow of the boy I always see at school rising. "There's nothing to talk about really."

I can't press the issue any further because the bus screeches to a stop in front of us at that moment. I step onto the bus and pay for the both of us before heading to the back of the completely empty bus scooting to the chair closest to the window so Shills can sit next to me.

The loud engine fills the silence between us, making it comfortable for us not to speak for the 20-minute bus ride. I pull the chord when I see the restaurant coming into view, following Shills off of the bus as I call out a thank you to the driver. We walk quietly to his car, the awkwardness growing as we get closer and closer. It's not any better once we're sitting inside, the keys in the ignition but he doesn't turn it.

"I swear that doesn't normally happen," he says, trying to lighten the mood.

I look at him curiously, but he doesn't look back at me. His fingers tighten on the wheel as he continues to sit there, waiting for me to say something.

"It's okay if it does," I assure him, smiling even though he's not looking. "Everybody has something that haunts them. It'd be weird if you didn't."

He finally looks over at me, a tentative smile on his face. "Really?"

I laugh lightly, playfully rolling my eyes. "Yes, really."

He laughs to, the sound uncertain and foreign. "Um, do—uh do you want to come over to my house?"

My smile disappears as I look at him suspiciously. "Go over to your house?"

"Yeah, I mean, I thought since it's not that late yet and if you didn't have anything to do you could come over to my house and we could hang out or something but if not I mean I totally understand actually it was a stupid idea I don't even know what I was thinking I'll just take you home now and—"

"Jude!" I interrupt.

He clamps his mouth shut as he looks over at me in surprise finally taking a breath after his longwinded rant. I should be suspicious of why he would want me to come over. I should be wary even hanging out with him one-on-one. But he seems, nervous. And not in a "I'm planning something horrible" kind of way. Just in a "he really wants to impress me" kind of way. Which doesn't make any sense. Why would he want to impress me?

"Yeah," I nod. "We can go over to your house."

His mouth drops open again as his eyes widen even more. "Really?"

I laugh as I roll my eyes again. "Yes, really. Let's go."

His smile is the brightest I've ever seen it as he turns on the car and starts backing out.

"Okay, let's do this." He giggles as we pull out of the parking lot.

I can't help but laugh as I watch him start to make his way to the freeway, a broad smile still on his face. What is it that's changed about him?