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“It’s cliché.”
“Doesn’t make it any less valid.”
I sighed. “Yeah, I guess. Hey… can you hack into something for me?”
“One of the few things in this life I can guarantee, gorgeous. What is it?”
“It’s Amanda… Amanda Gordon. Can you find out who pays her phone bill?”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “Uh… yeah. Give me a second,” he said, then pulled his laptop in front of him. I chewed at the inside of my lip as his fingers flew over the keys, and several minutes later, he stopped to read something on the screen. The corners of his mouth curved into a triumphant smile that he suppressed as soon as our eyes met.
That was all the answer I needed, really.
But I asked anyway.
“Who?”
“Asher.”
Hearing the answer out loud still made me cringe, even though I’d expected it. Instead of responding verbally, I nodded, then climbed down from my stool.
“Monica…”
“I’m fine,” I lied, keeping my face averted toward the stairs. “I’m just… tired, from last night. I’m going to lay down.”
I was relieved when he said nothing – giving me a pass to continue on my way. As quickly as he’d given me that, I had no doubt that, with time, hewouldfigure this out, and give me all the answers I needed.
I just hoped my view of the people I cared about wouldn’t get destroyed in the process.
As usual, sleep eluded me.
But what did I expect really, with the lights on full blast because my grown ass had found a sudden fear of the dark?
I tried to reason with myself that it made sense, that I shouldn’t feel bad about what had to be just a temporary aversion, but I kept coming back to the same conclusion – that trying to sleep with the lights on was just silly.
So I turned them off.
And then laid there in the dark, terrified, and painfully awake.
I’d drank the chamomile tea, squeezed drops of lavender oil into my long, relaxing bath. Lavender candles, lavender-vanilla body butter, lavender pillow spray.
That lavender shit didn’t work.
So I took the pill – the “guaranteed sleep” that had always been hit or miss for me, and tonight only served as another miss. So not only was I wide awake, and afraid, I was alsopissed.I had no grand ambitions to cure cancer or end world hunger. I just wanted tosleep.
Why was that so goddamnedhard?
I turned onto my stomach and buried my face in my pillow, wondering if suffocating myselfjust enoughto pass out was a possibility. Turning my face to the side, so I could breathe, I laughed out loud at my own ridiculousness. Tentatively, I closed my eyes, hoping that simple darkness was all I would see.
Thank goodness.
I pushed out a sigh of relief.
Instead of thinking about how bad I wanted to sleep, and my frustrations that I couldn’t, I focused instead on clearing my mind of everything. My breathing slowed as I sank further into the mattress, cocooning myself in those luxurious sheets. After a few minutes, my eyelids grew heavy on their own, staying closed with no effort on my behalf.
And then they popped open, in unison with a booming knock of bass.
The music only lasted a few seconds, not even long enough for me to recognize the song. It was, however, long enough to snatch sleep from my grasp as I sat up.
