Summer is the best time for sleepovers.
To my friends and I it has become something of an art form. We rotate houses each day for the entire three months. I can tell that my parents are getting frustrated seeing me only one day out of four, but they should be used to it by now.
The four of us are practically inseparable. We have been for years. It's the best. When we were young it was staying up late telling scary stories or reading by flashlight under a blanket fort in the corner. Nowadays, it's more giggling about boys and late-night movies. Many friendships fall apart in high school, but it's only served to bring us closer together.
Tonight is a night like any other. We're holed up in Stacy's bedroom. There's some sort of soap opera on her T.V., but I can hardly hear it. The volume is practically muted since it's midnight. We've learned on numerous occasions to beware the sleepy wrath of Stacy's mom.
I'm flipping casually through a magazine I picked up earlier. There's a few articles that catch my eye even though all ten of the techniques advertised to improve my sex life seemed patently ridiculous. I read them closely anyway. I mean, who knows when that kind of knowledge might come in handy?
Brenda and Stacy are the only ones even watching the show. They've always bonded over their love of cheesy soap operas, and tonight is no exception. I can tolerate them, to a point. Katie finds that point to be much sooner. She's over in the corner, furiously engaged in some sort of text conversation. She keeps refusing to say who it is exactly that she is talking to, obviously getting a lot of joy out of her little secret, but we all know it's Alex. Still, we pretend like we care and ask once in a while regardless. It just seems to make her happy, and that's what friends do.
A normal night, like any other. The summer has been especially hot, but the fan in the window brings with it the cool night breeze. Everything is quiet this late, and here by the window I can feel what will become the morning dew misting in the air.
An article catches my eye and I begin reading about the newest celebrity gossip. It's a guilty pleasure for sure, but I just can't help enjoying all the sordid details of the rich and famous. Some major celebrity spills all about their bitter divorce with a sports super star. I don't know who he is, but it doesn't matter to me. I just enjoy the drama.
I'm halfway through the article when something suddenly changes.
I can't put my finger on why, but I suddenly lose all attention on the words before me. It's strange. It's like how I would feel if something had just crashed down behind me, but nothing happened. The room is completely silent. I look up to see all three of my friends sitting up and wearing the same confused expression as me. The T.V. has been fully muted, the soft whisperings of passionate actors no longer filling the void.
But I can hear something. Or, is it even a sound? Maybe it's a sensation. A soft clicking of some sort. It's so faint that it almost feels like it's coming from inside me. I listen more intently and I can almost begin to make it out. It's not a clicking, it's deeper, more guttural. It feels like the sensation in your throat when you're trying to roll you R's. I don't know what it is, but it's making me distinctly uncomfortable.
I look up at my friends again. They all share the same look of mild discomfort mixed with confusion. All are looking down at the floor, presumably lost in their own thoughts.
Something weird is going on here.
"What's...what's going on?" Comes the whispered voice of Brenda. She seems hesitant to even say the words, obviously worried that she's the only one affected.
"Do you hear it too?" I ask, glad that I'm not the only one.
"Hear it? You mean feel it? Or, well, I guess I can kind of hear it too. I don't..." Says Katie, approaching us from the corner. She doesn't finish her sentence, but we all understand exactly what she means. She's almost shivering as she nestles in beside us, but it's not from the cold.
