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I drink the water, spilling a good part on myself and the sheets, but I feel marginally better.
JC takes the empty glass from my shaking hand without a word, his expression shuttered.
I wipe my mouth on the back of my hand. “Sorry about this.”
“Why the pills, Merc? What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing.”
Just nightmares. The same crushing, dark dreams I’ve had since I was a kid. This morning, right before dawn, I woke up feeling cold and sick, and I took some pills to rest. Didn’t realize they’d knock me out like that.
Nobody knows about the pills. Not even Gigi. I’d like to keep it that way.
Something he said earlier seeps into my consciousness, though. “What… wait, what time is it?”
“Seven PM, dude. You slept through the day. I don’t usually worry about people, but you get the prize.”
“Holy shit.” Seven PM. I missed the whole day. I missed…
… I missed coffee with Sophie.
Ah fuck. Fuck this shit. I swing my legs off the bed, not sure what I can do to fix this—call her? Did I get her number?—and my knees won’t hold me.
“You okay? Jeez, man.” JC hauls me back on the bed and pushes my head down between my legs.
Not fucking humiliating at all.
“I’m okay.” I shove his hand off me and straighten.
Ow, my head.
“Why the sleeping pills?” he insists.
“For shits and giggles. What do you think? I don’t sleep so well.”
“Why didn’t you say anything about that when you came to see the apartment?”
“Well, shit, sorry if I’m not the ideal roommate, buddy. If you want me out, you just have to say.”
“Oh shut up,” JC grumbles. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
My head is pounding in time to my racing heart. “Then what did you mean?”
“I’m just worried. I need to know if you take any drugs, if there is any health problem I need to be aware of—”
“I don’t have any medical problems. Look, JC, these pills… that’s all I take. And only when I have a real fucking bad night.”
“All right.” He rubs at his forehead. “All right, I believe you. If it’s just this, then we’re fine. Just…”
“Just what, dude?”
“You know the pills won’t stop the nightmares, right? If you ever need help… just ask me. I’m right on the other side of the wall.”
It takes me a damn long moment to process this… kindness.
Unless it’s a front for his serial killer activities. Even after weeks of staying in this apartment, I know absolutely nothing about him.
But before I can formulate any question, he’s already leaving, closing the door behind him.
