Finding Ford

chapter fifteen

"I do want you to know I think you'd be good to me, and I'd be so good to you." -Marianas Trench, Good To You 

I WAKE UP TO THE SUN PEEKING ITS WAY through the blinds covering my windows, creating an array of stripes on the floor and cream-colored walls. My wake is slow and groggy; by the times my eyes open, I'm just staring ahead at the wall, watching the way its coated with the patterns of sunlight. Ford's body only slightly covers the view, since he's on his stomach, flattened against the bed. My head is propped on a pillow, my eyes slowly moving their way from the walls to the way Ford's body seems to slowly and gently move up and down with every deep and dragged out breath he takes.

I really don't want to wake him, but I know that my mother's going to come check on me soon, and I can't risk anything. So, I slowly prop myself up on my elbow, muttering quietly, "Ford? Wake up, Wilson."

Ford grunts slightly in his sleep, but otherwise doesn't move. I hum, trying my best to find the motivation to wake him up, but I can barely find any. I lay back down against the pillow, now staring up. It's the weekend, after all, if my mom does come by knocking, I can just pretend to sleep. I locked the door last night, anyway. 

I stay in the position for a while, mulling things through in my head. My thoughts drift to Luke, who is probably still locked in jail. Could it really have been Luke? I never told Ford that he's in custody right now. I probably should though; Luke did hate Ford, and maybe that will help Ford put some pieces together. Because, right now, I'm still unconvinced that it's actually Lucas. There's no way. Lucas and Ford are friends!

Curiosity killed the cat, Ava. 

I shake my head. I don't need to give myself distress this early in the morning. It can wait until at least midday.

Just then, I feel the mattress shift. Ford grunts as he pushes off his stomach, barely able to turn himself over to face me. I snort at his struggle, and give him a groggy smile. "You're an idiot," I tell him softly.

Ford gives me a small smile, "I know. Thanks for letting me crash."

"I didn't have much of a choice," I point out, but we're both smiling softly.

"I should get going," Ford mutters, not making any move to get up. "But I'm really comfortable."

I laugh and push myself up, swinging my legs off the mattress. "I'm going to get showered. My parents should still be sleeping and won't come into my room, but if they do, hide in the closet, got it?"

Ford yawns, "Okay."

"And then we'll go get the money from your dad's house," I say, going through my drawers for a fresh pair of sweatpants. "I'm serious, though, if you hear any footsteps at all, hide in the closet. Okay? Ford?" I turn around to see Ford sleeping once more, a piece of hair that has fallen over his face rising up and down slowly with every soft snore he makes. 

I hit him with a pillow to wake him up again. Ford reluctantly gets up, agreeing to stay awake until I'm back and the coast is clear. I take a quick shower, constantly on alert for any footsteps around the house, but it seems that my parents are still asleep. Changing into sweatpants and a green flannel, I try to bursh the mess I call my blonde hair, and eventually just put it up into a bun. 

As I brush my teeth, I glance at myself in the mirror. Under my hazel eyes are dark bags, reminding me just how stressed I've been lately. I sigh deeply, feeling an ache running down my back. God, I could use a twenty year vacation. I almost want to be angry at myself for saying that, though; Ford is the one who had to get up and leave anything.