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I bite my lip, closing my eyes for a second.
“Mm-hmm. Small question. Did he, by any chance, tell you my social security number, too?” I ask sarcastically. He giggles at the question. The laugh surrounds me, repeating in my head. Get it together, Val.
“No. He was talking about my dad and said something about how he has a thing for people with shitty fathers, then told me about yours,” he explains.
I sigh. I love Lorenzo, and he’s my best friend, but sometimes he gets on my last nerve.
“Someday I’m going to plan his murder,” I mumble under my breath, looking straight ahead.
“But he did say shitty and deceased are the same thing,” Elias mentions. I switch my gaze toward him before answering.
“Well, he also thinks a sub and a wrap are the same, but then distinguishes between two shades of black, so I never know with him anymore.”
He nods at my statement. Lorenzo can be weird sometimes. He never really focuses on something unless it’s related to fashion. It’s everything to him.
“So, are you okay? I mean, you were pretty zoned out with us,” he asks me, a hint of concern in his tone.
“I told you I’m fine. Tired,” I repeat.
“You said you were tired yesterday, too. So, what, you had two consecutive days of bad sleep?” Yes. Exactly. Almost no rest. “Why are you tired, anyway? Like, did you sleep late or wake up early?”
“Uh, both,” I mutter. He lifts an eyebrow and narrows his eyes slightly. I sigh. “I didn’t really sleep; it was a one-hour nap because I couldn’t stay up,” I admit, lowering my voice.
His eyes widen, both shocked and worried. Why is everyone acting like I’m dying, I’m fine. I’ve gone through more days without sleep in my life.
“You slept for one hour?” he exclaims. I nod my head. “Wait, what about yesterday? You were also tired then. How much did sleep did you get? Or wait, how much have your slept during these two days in total?” he asks.
I hesitate before answering. Do I really want to tell him? It’s not like yesterday matters. Then again, I don’t think he’ll believe anything after what I just said, so lying is just going to make it more complicated.
“An . . . hour,” I mumble.
“One hour! How are you still alive?” he almost shouts.
“I’m fine. I’m standing here, I’m talking, I’m walking, I’m breathing. If I’m able to do those things, I’m sure I’m not dying,” I tell him, and he rolls his eyes, staring back to the front.
“That can’t be healthy, Violet. You need sleep,” he utters. I grin. I’ll get sleep, I’ll be fine. I don’t get why everyone is worried.
We continue another couple of steps in silence before Elias stops. He turns his body around completely, confused for a second. I turn with him, trying to identify the source of his confusion. I notice his gaze focused on a classroom door, before it switches to me. It takes me a minute to realize that it’s my classroom. Oh, wow, I’m really not focused.
“You passed your classroom,” Elias points out. Yeah, I know. I groan, frowning. I need coffee, and he already knows I’m tired anyway. Does Elias seem like a person to care whether you skip or not? You know what, it doesn’t matter.
“I’m not walking back there,” I announce, and we both turn back around.
“So, you’re just not going?”
“I never was. I’m going to have a nice walk and get some coffee.”
“Black?”
“Exactly,” I tell him, walking further away as he stands there.
“So, you just walked with me for nothing?”
I turn around, walking backward slowly. “You offered to walk me; how could I say no?”
“You need to stop accepting useless offers because you don’t want to say no,” he points out.
“That wouldn’t be very Violet of me, would it?”
