where the water meets the moon | e.d.

twenty

ethan

i'm having trouble sleeping for some reason.

evan is zonked out in the bed next to me, but i just can't get my mind to settle down long enough to doze off.

i feel different.

something in me just feels different.

when a small, quiet knock comes to my door, i roll out of bed and half-expect it to be some sort of ding-dong ditch prank.

but instead when i swing it open, i'm faced with addison.

i stare back, a little startled by her sudden appearance and why she could possibly be here at midnight.

"evan's asleep, but—"

"no, i came here for you."

i furrow my eyebrows. "for me? why?"

she shrugs and shifts on her feet a little. "wanna talk?"

"about what?"

rolling her eyes, she tugs me out of my room and lets the door close behind me.

"hey! my room key was in there," i argue, letting my mouth drop open when i realize i have no way of getting back in.

"relax, it's fine. the sky is clearing up. let's go outside."

something tells me the right thing to do would be to knock on my door, waking evan from his slumber, and telling her to go back to bed as well.

but clearly i don't listen well.

i follow her down the quiet hallway in just a plain black t shirt, grey sweatpants, and white nike socks.

she wears a pajama set of flowy shorts and a matching shirt, but instead of socks she's wearing sandals.

"why did you drag me out of bed?"

"you weren't sleeping, were you?"

i scratch the back of my neck. "no."

"me neither."

"so why are we—"

she spins around, stopping me in my tracks and almost bumping into my chest.

"ethan," her face starts to spread into a smile. "just trust me."

"trust you?" i raise an eyebrow.

"yeah. you've clearly never done it before, but i can guarantee you won't be disappointed."

a laugh escapes my lips and she leads me down the hallway to a back entrance. she begins to push on the door when i let her know that an alarm will sound if she does.

"they never do," she whispers. "those signs are just for show. they don't want anyone using these doors."

and sure enough, an alarm can not be heard as we slip out the door and into the humid, damp night.