Dirt

14

Princeton

We didn't talk much after that. Until I was slipping under the lull of sleep when Knox politely whispered if he could plug in his phone so he could play music through his headphones. Apparently he can't fall asleep without it. I didn't give a flying fuck, I'd already stayed up later than I intended and was ready to escape into sleep. 

Once I woke up more, though, to dig for my chord, I could hear the vicious whistle of the wild wind through crack and holes in my room. I dug my speaker out too. I didn't mind music, it might even help cover the wind for better sleep, and it made Knox smile. We fell asleep to Sleep Mode Content, one of his five sleep playlist. Five.

We talked about things in bed, things neither of us seemed really happy to just volunteer. But it didn't matter, because we did talk. We talked about my episodes. I've explained them in various ways various times. Last night was different; I was high, combing through the dark feelings to find an end, and Knox just laid beside me without prompting more uneasy questions about them.

Instead, he stepped forward with something I know he tries to hide. I can't imagine what it feels like not to pick up a book and dive right into it. I bet it is why he told me. He can't imagine being a puppet to radical emotions just as I can't imagine my mind spinning my vision and resources. However, we can understand being embarrassed and frustrated. We both understand being stuck in something no one can truly comprehend.

My mind was sort of spinning with anxiety, insecurity, vulnerability, haze and the cold. None of it was enough to distract from the fact that I truly saw him. Straight on, eyes locked eyes, I saw the shadows and the moonlight dance over the fully opaque sculpture of Knox Foster. The dark made it harder to truly drink it in. The moon and the street light through my curtains gave just enough light to serve hints of the freckles that peppered all over. 

His skin held no wrinkles with no hard emotion. His dusty pink lips were either parted just a millimeter or pulled into a smile. Dark, almost black in the dim light, eyes blinked under thick bushy eyebrows. His curls had fallen out of whatever gel he had used earlier, lightly tossed on the flat pillow. Knox is that kind of dazzling you try to ignore but you can't fight getting wrapped up his graces. 

I didn't want to be around anybody. I didn't want to leave my room after I went to bed with Dad's warning. I had just wanted to go home, kick Knox to the curb, and go to sleep without waking up. Now that I saw Knox, like really saw, I'm glad I got out of bed for an hour. Even if it was hell, I finally saw Knox.

And it was beautifully tragic.

"Princeton. Princeton," I rolled over and dug my head closer to the comforter so I don't have to listen and can just sleep longer. I haven't been asleep long and they were making me get up.

"Princeton, wake up so we can get breakfast at Roger's. The rest of the boys will be there...Princeton."

"What!" I flew straight up from the pillow, catching a mouth of my own hair. My eyes squinted immediately, my shitty blackout curtain drooping on one of the sides it's flung over a shower curtain rod. The comforter pools at my waist as I whip my head around to tear at whatever dumb fuck is trying to wake me up. I'm so tired and yet they still insist on waking me up.

It's not Cedar. Nor Roger or Raine or Basile. Next to me is curly hair messy and flat from sleep, freckles beaming, and dark chocolate chips blinking straight at me. He was still there. 

"Knox?" I shouldn't have made it sound like I forgot he was there. I just was surprised he was there. 

Knox nodded, there's some light music playing in the background still. Maybe one of his sleep ones or maybe he's turned today. The light strikes his eye, his cheekbones, and the blessing of a jawline. He's ten times more attractive in the light than hidden in the dark. Knox was motherfucking knees weakening, mouth-watering, smoking hot.