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"I have a few ideas. I think I might do a research paper on the Correlation of Constant Exposure with Physical Attraction, or maybe the Effect of Psychological Testing on People." She shrugged again. "I don't know. It's really hard to please her. She never agrees to anyone's proposals."
Chris waited for a beat. "Giselle."
"Yeah?"
"Aren't you exhausted?"
"Aren't you?"
He sighed. "Why aren't you sleeping?"
Giselle stopped and looked at him. "I tried."
"And?"
"And, I can't... Every time I close my eyes, his... his... face... just..." She took in a deep breath and shook her head. "My mind won't shut down. There's too much noise."
He stayed silent.
She continued. "It's like my heart is heavy. But I'm too tired to cry. It's just... It's... I hate this."
He waited. "Okay, it's okay, I'm here..." He leaned forward. If she was staying up, then so was he. "Okay, so, do you need help with the research?"
She looked at him and smiled a little. "I'm not doing it right now. You look tired. Go to sleep."
His eyes narrowed. "Do you think I can leave you like that?"
"Like what?" she snapped.
He sighed. "Nothing. So, what then?"
She looked back at the laptop. "I'm gonna try and search for Xavier."
"Why?"
"Well, I didn't have my new number when we left Petrichor, so I've got no way to contact him now. I don't know what's happened to him. I don't know when he'll come to Phoenix. I don't know anything."
Chris closed his eyes for a moment.
She continued, "So, I'm just looking him up on the internet. But he's not anywhere, and now I'm just worried."
Chris didn't want to comfort her about Xavier, so he stayed silent.
"Do you think he's okay?" she pressed.
"Yeah, sure."
She did not look convinced but still nodded.
"Look," he began. "There's nothing you can do about him. Right now, all you've gotta worry about is yourself. You haven't slept in a long time. You're gonna get sick if you keep this up."
She looked ready to argue but nodded instead.
He got up, his body aching, and took the laptop from her. Closing it, he kept it on her side table. She lay down in her bed, and he pulled the blanket to her chin, crushing the impulse to kiss her forehead. She closed her eyes.
Chris got back to the sofa and sat. He waited for twenty minutes as she twisted and turned in her bed without a complaint, not once asking him for help. Whenever she had sleep problems before, it was Chris who'd sing to her, and she'd fall asleep like a baby. He waited for twenty minutes that night to be disappointed.
"Do you want me to sing?" he asked in a low voice, afraid to wake her up if she'd fallen asleep.
