n a t e *
Weston is my best friend, and we've had many, many sleepovers before this one, so why was this one so different?
☽
"What time are you coming over tonight?" Wes asks me at lunch.
"What time do you want me to come over?" I ask him, looking over at him.
"You know I don't care what time you come over... I just like spending time with you,"
That's not really helping me with what time I should come over, Wes,"
"I don't know, probably like 4:30,"
"Was that so hard?"
Wes fake grumbles, laughs, and punches me in the shoulder. "Haha,"
After school, I run home to drop off my backpack, pick up the bag that I'm taking to Weston's house, and say hi to my mom.
"Nate!" Mom calls after me.
"Yeah, Mama?" I ask.
"You be careful and have fun, alright?"
"I will, Mama,"
"Love you, baby,"
"I love you, Mama,"
☽
"You're--" Wes says, pausing to check his watch. "three minutes late, sir,"
"Sheesh, I'm sorry, I didn't know it was a crime to be late to a sleepover with your best friend,"
"You didn't call! You didn't text! I didn't know where you were! I didn't know if you were okay!"
"Dramatic, much?"
Wes punches me again in the shoulder.
"What are we doing for food?" I ask him.
"Well, we need to go to Target and get some snacks and things, so I thought we could just pick food up on the way back?" He says.
"That's fine with me,"
We go to Target a few minutes later and pick up Chipotle on the way back.
☽
"What now?" Wes asks me after we've eaten.
"I don't know," I reply, looking around. My phone dings.
I look down at my phone.
"Who was it?" Weston asks.
"Carlie Daniels," I tell him.
"Oh? What's going on there?"
"Nothing, we're just friends, I don't like her like that,"
"Do you like someone?"
"Yeah," You, I want to say.
"That's cool,"
I've never been so happy to have not been asked who I liked.
What Wes doesn't know, apart from the fact that I like him is that I've been having nightmares lately. Vivid nightmares. About him. About me. About him and I. Nightmares where he's gone, or he never existed, or he's dead...they're awful. I wake up from each one crying, sweating, breathing heavily, and sitting up in bed. Sometimes I scream out and yell.
My mom heard me thrashing around one night, and when she walked in the room she said I started to scream and it looked like I was seizing. She flipped the light on, and I woke up immediately and told her about the nightmare. That was the first one that I remember having.
☽
I'm a little scared to go to sleep, but I'm not going to tell Wes that.
He'll probably tease me, and of course, I can't tell him why I'm scared to go to sleep, because if I tell him why that means I tell him that I like him. And I can't do that. I can't deal with my best friend not talking to me anymore. That would be like one of the nightmares come true, just maybe not as bad, or brutal.
"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Wes asks me, snapping out of my thoughts and bringing me back into reality.
"Oh, nothing," I lie. I look at him.
He raises an eyebrow but doesn't press further; another thing I'm grateful for that no questions were asked.
"Do you want to watch a movie?" he asks me.
"Sure," I say.
We end up watching Harry Potter.
☽
At midnight, we decide to go to bed.
We're Seniors in high school.
We're tired.
The fear keeps persisting, but I don't say anything.
I'm even more scared of saying something than I am of going to sleep.
☽
