Wishful Thinking

Six

A deafening sound of thunder bounced off the walls of my room, forcing me to wake up.

With a groan, I turned to my side to face Julie's side of the room, finding her bed empty. She's probably in the bathroom. I glanced at the clock reading quarter past midnight. I shot daggers at the glowing numbers and slumped back into my pillow, staring at the ceiling. I didn't try going back to sleep. With the ringing of thunder and the clash of lightning, I know that I wouldn't be able to sleep any time soon.

With a sigh, I stretched over to my bedside and grabbed my phone, holding it up above me. I went on Instagram and scrolled through my feed, liking every photo and video I pass.

I stopped and re-played a video of cute boyfriends doing adorable things for their girlfriends. I love watching these types of videos. I can't get over them, they're all couple goals, but I hate them at the same time.

God, you have no idea how much I envy them, I can't help it. . . why can't I have a cute boyfriend?

It's not my fault that the male gender scares me, but most of the time, the guys at my school are total dipshits. I scowl at my phone and swiping up to the next feed, but the phone slipped out of my hands, landing on my face.

The corner of my phone hit my lip, making me wince. I put the phone on the bedside table, a little pissed at dropping my phone on my face. . . again.

Suddenly William came to mind. I wonder what his up too, I still need a way to thank him for his kindness, even though he was kind of an asshole. I really do need to thank him though, it really did help to get things out of my chest. I think back to the tree. Talking to William felt nice as if I've known him for years, it felt . . .natural.

My thoughts shifted to Julie. I still can't get over her reaction when I told her about Will. She was on board in a second but not the next. She's too nice to be stereotypical and judgemental. When I made fun of this kid in primary school for having weird teeth, she told me off. After that experience, I've learnt to shut my mouth around her . . . sometimes. But why would she tell me to stay away from Will the minute I told her about his tattoo? The only conclusion that I could think of is Julie thinking he was a motorcycle junkie or something. The way I described him fitted into a junkie attire, which makes sense.

Which reminds me, Julie hasn't come back yet. I sat up in a sitting position and took another good look at her neatly done empty bed.

Huh, that's strange. There weren't that many places to go in this place because of curfew. By ten thirty, everyone had to be in their rooms. Not that I follow that rule anyway.

I stood up and knocked on the bathroom door.

No response. I opened the door and looked inside, she wasn't there.

Worry crept into my mind, but then again, Julie can handle herself. If she could deal with the mean kids that tortured me half my life, she can beat up anyone, verbally speaking.

I debated whether or not I should leave the room to go and find her but I'll risk getting caught by Ms Davis or to stay and hopefully wait until she returns. Giving myself a few minutes to think, I went with option one.

I put on my grey hoodie and left the room. I slowly made my way down the hall, trying hard not to make a sound.

★

The wooden floors softly creaked as I put one foot in front of the other. Lightning strikes illuminated my pathway as I made my way to the other children's room. Not wanting to wake the kids, I pressed my ear to each door, hoping to hear Julie's voice. Sometimes when the little ones get scared, they ask Juls to read to them. As always, Julie agreed and it became a familiar thing around here, especially during a thunderstorm. As the oldest in the orphanage, we had to be responsible and be the "older sisters" to them.