Just One Voice

•Acting Plain Weird•

~22~

Later that night, I watch as Rylie makes her bed and plugs her phone into its charging cord.

Not surprisingly, I haven't yet been able to rub off today's erupting incident. My hands are still clammy and the skin on my face instantly warms to the touch every time I think back on it. Should I tell Rylie about the fight—er, the kerfuffle? As much as I want to leave it in the past, Rylie had come up in topic several times, and I can't help but feel like she should know.

Plus, the argument had barely answered any of my questions, but rather sent a thousand more into chaotic flurry.

Though now I know that the dislike between Rylie and Amber is mutual, that's for certain.

"A lot of girls like attention. But you clenching your teddy bear while staring at me putting my retainer in is just plain weird." Rylie shakes her head, popping the molded plastic set up against her gums.

"Sorry. It's nothing. I'm fine." I blurt, each stout sentence sounding more suspicious than the one before.

I'm a terrible person.

And an even more terrible liar.

"Right." Rylie temporarily pauses her nightly routine and eyes me, "You're lucky I don't care enough to figure what you're lying about."

I let out a nervous chuckle and toss my teddy over next to my pillow. Taking out my scrunchie, I quickly finger comb through my hair and climb into the cool sheets that fit themselves around the stiff mattress. My tired blue eyes can't help but knowingly glance back up at Rylie with every movement.

"Do you have some sweatpants I could borrow to sleep in?" She asks, pulling her own set of sheets over her legs and taking off the day's pair of jeans.

She usually doesn't have a problem changing in front of me—though I guess I have pretty much been intently staring at her for the last half an hour. That might make someone slightly uncomfortable now that I think about it.

"It's super hot tonight, are you sure you don't just want to wear your usual running shorts?" I double-check.

"If I wanted to wear shorts I wouldn't have just asked for sweatpants, Brooklynn."

"Okay, okay." I raise a hand in surrender, "I think there's a pair at the foot of my bed."

She arches her eyebrow, "Hand them to me."

I purse my lips, more than puzzled by her odd actions tonight. Though she didn't question me on my awkwardness, so I suppose I should leave her's alone as well.

I stretch across the surface of the bed, my head hanging over its edge in search of the sweats. It would probably be easier to just get up and walk over to my pile of laundry, but that's not the Brooky way. I'm determined to both keep my feet under the blankets, and to not fall on my face. A treacherous task, I know, but one I manage to successfully complete.

Chucking the pants over to Rylie on the other side of the room, she puts them on from within the covers. She briefly hisses amongst her shifting, claiming that she has the worst leg cramp. Well, that explains her not wanting to stand I suppose.