Blanket Of Stars | jensoo

harsh reality

The last sleepover I went to was when I was twelve. I was one of the five girls invited to Nayeon's for the night to get high on candy and soda. It was one of those innocent sleepovers.

One of the movies I remember watching from that night frightened one of the other girls, Sana, to the point where she asked to sleep with the lights on. She was the kind of girl who didn't sound genuinely afraid, more like she just wanted some attention.

I had my sleeping bag next to Nayeon and next to her was Momo who was, at times, a little harsh, but I also wanted to be like her. She always lived and acted how she wanted, regardless of people's negative opinion of her, and still does to this day as far as I can tell whenever I see her around.

Around eleven thirty when the lights went out and Nayeon and I got those annoying giggle-fits that kids sometimes get, Momo told us to shut up and don't fall asleep. She was going to do something.

Five minutes or more passed until she quietly slipped out of her sleeping bag and tiptoed across the room to Sana, causing Nayeon and I to sit up for a better view. From the moonlight you could see that Sana's eyes were closed. Momo moved behind her head and leaned over her, getting close to her face. She slapped her forehead and said "boo" in the deepest voice I've ever heard from a girl.

I don't know what was louder: my laughter or Sana's scream. She was the first to leave the next morning and I don't think she slept the entire night. I, on the other hand, slept like a baby. It must have been a sugar coma.

My bed on the floor has been folded away and put back into the closet. Jennie's reasoning for this was that nobody should sleep on the floor by a window in December. I protested, of course, and it fell on deaf ears. I like sleeping by Jennie, I have to admit. She smells good, doesn't snore, and makes minimal mouth smacking noises. Plus, there's the added bonus of her smiling at me every time she wakes up for a second to turn over. I don't think she realises she does it. I don't tell her.

I don't tell her how it makes me feel when she looks at me. I don't tell her how she makes me feel.

I'm not stupid. I know that this is dangerous. I know that the chance of anything else developing is out of the question, but I can't help it; you don't see how Jennie looks at me or how my name sounds leaving her lips.

For the past five days Jennie has looked tired and I know it's because of me. She insists on looking at every part of my face before she falls asleep, in case it's the last time she sees it. A couple of nights ago she was still awake at three in the morning, just looking at me. Making me feel beautiful without speaking a word. When she can't hold her eyes open any longer she surrenders to sleep only to wake early the next morning.

The bed covers are only covering her legs, leaving her torso visible instead of hidden under the blankets. The material of her white oversized shirt she wore to bed has also risen up, giving me a perfect view to her taut stomach.

It's becoming a habit for Jennie to rest her arm close to my pillow at some point during the night. I know that it's subconscious and I would never mention it to her, but it hurts. Not unbearably so, but the sensation isn't pleasant.

Yesterday she moved her hand onto my pillow and the fact that I was facing her brought it close to my face. I moved back a safe distance and had to wait until she apparently had an itch on her stomach for her to move her hand.

I move off the bed and cover her up properly because it looks cold outside. It looks so cold that I bet if my heart was beating and I went outside it would feel like I was breathing fire. I'm careful to avoid any of her skin when my fingers brush back a lock of hair covering part of Jennie's face. I leave when she tries to lean into my hand.