Clearer (J.HALE)

19

I jolted awake, chest heaving and slick with sweat.

The dream wasn't hugely visual—the experience hadn't been, either. Just a few colours and the sound of heavy breathing, a ceiling fan rotating very, very slowly. There had been a large crack in the ceiling plaster. I'd refused to take my eyes off it.

My bedroom window was open, and the room was cold. I'd tossed off the blanket in my fitful sleep and my skin was pimpled and flushed. The curtains ballooned in the breeze and the sound of the sea lulled me back into full consciousness.

It felt like he was still there. Lady Macbeth might have been onto something—no amount of scrubbing could get him off my skin.

I leaned over to the bedside table and switched on the light. Moving had become a little more difficult; the bump was much heavier than I'd anticipated. The little heartbeat inside had also started to kick—at my ribs and my other organs, hard and often—which didn't make things any easier. Sleeping was a nightmare. Nothing was comfortable, and when I found a position that was just about bearable, the dreams would wake me up again.

I slowly hauled myself out of bed, placing my hands on the small of my back and withholding a groan. The floors were very thin, and I'd kept Meg up countless nights over the past month or so with my clattering about in the room above her in the early hours of the morning, so I moved with extra caution. The sweat making my shirt stick to my skin chilled me even further, so I grabbed the largest jumper I could find and slung it over my head.

I couldn't go back to sleep. The nights that I tried after dreams like that, I just dreamed again. I opted for physical exhaustion over mental.

I picked up my phone and settled in the wooden rocking chair near the window, pulling a blanket around me. I went to text Paul—he could usually be relied upon to be awake in the middle of the night—but before I could, another message popped up.

Clarke—lessons tomorrow or no? ~J

I blinked at the message, unsure if I'd slipped into delirium due to lack of sleep.

Yeah. Weekday. Why? ~I

Just trying to be considerate. ~J

My eyes fizzed a little at the brightest of the screen, but I couldn't look away from it. I knew he didn't sleep, but I'd been in Forks for a lot of nights—why was he texting me on this one?

Why are you awake? You're bad enough at Calc already. ~J

I scoffed quietly.

You're supposed to be supportive. ~I

I am. This is me being concerned. ~J

For my wellbeing, or your reputation as a tutor? ~I

Both, naturally. ~J

Well, don't worry. Insomnia is not the reason for my falling asleep in your sessions. ~I

Ouch. ~J

I smirked down at the screen, before letting out a light sigh.

Nightmares. ~I

He didn't reply right away.

Do you want to talk about it? ~J

No. Thanks. ~I