Something There

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One:

"Damn, do you always sleep this much?" Bryce asks me the moment my eyes flutter open the following morning.

Of course he's already wide awake, typing away on his phone the same way he was when I had fallen asleep last night.

I crinkle my nose at his comment, and he pokes me in the side with one of his fingers.

"Yes, I do generally sleep for eight hours a night like a regular person," I chide, and he shakes his head at me, staring me straight in the eyes.

To my surprise, I woke up curled up in Bryce's lap, his arms around me and the blanket still covering us.  I thought for sure I'd wake up to find him on the other couch, as far away from me as possible while still staying in the same room.

I immediately found him braiding a section of my hair right when I woke up, but he quickly stopped to mock me about how much I sleep instead.

"I know science says that teenagers are supposed to sleep for eight hours but I can't think of a single kid our age who actually sleeps that much except for you," he says to me, and I crawl out of his lap so that I'm sitting directly beside him instead.

I pull the blanket up to my chin, leaning against the side of the couch but still keeping my gaze fixed on Bryce.

"Lack of sleep can weaken your immune system which raises the chances of me catching a cold. I can't sing properly if I'm sick," I explain to him, and he presses a finger over my lips to shut me up.

"Shush. Are all theatre kids this whiny about this stuff?" he questions, and I shrug at him, leaving, him to remove his finger. He then stands up from the sofa, pulling the blanket off from over my body and folding it neatly before placing it back in the basket.

I groan at the sudden chilliness, deprived of the blanket's warmth. Bryce rolls his eyes at me, but he then offers me his hand to pull me up as well. I take his hand, standing up and quickly pulling down my sweater that had rode up a little in my sleep, exposing a bit of my stomach.

Bryce snorts at me, before walking over to the kitchen and leaning against the fridge.

"Do you want to change and go out to grab breakfast somewhere? I saw a place a few minutes away when I was buy groceries yesterday," he says out of the blue, and I walk over to him, sitting down at the island.

"Just us?" I question, and he shakes his head, laughing to himself, before walking over, resting his elbows on the granite of the counter and leaning towards me.

I cross my arms, confused as of to why he can't just answer me.

He tilts his head to the side, nodding towards the stairs.

"Personally, I'm starving, and I don't think those losers are going to be awake for another little while," he tells me. "So yes, just us. Go get changed and we can head out."

I'm about to interject when he puts a finger over my lips for the second time already this morning alone.

"You ask too many questions. Go get ready and we can head out," he tells me, straightening his back up again.

"There's no way I'm going in the room right now. I'm scared about what I'll see," I tell him, and he laughs, but nonetheless he walks away from me, over to the stairs.

He raises a hand, gesturing for me to follow him before he heads right up to the second floor. I sigh, not bothering to argue with him, and I stand up from my seat to follow behind him.

That's when Jasmine comes walking down the stairs, her hair falling in messy blue curls framing her face as she covers her mouth while letting out a huge yawn.