I wrap up this staring contest I’m having with myself so she can use the toilet and the mirror, too—brush her teeth and do whatever she’s got to do—miserably making my way to the cot in the kitchen.
Nothing to do, but climb on.
Grunting, I shift, doing my best to find a comfy spot.
I roll to my right side, feet hanging off the end a good, solid foot, which means my feet are ripe for the picking from any boogeymen or monsters lingering in the dark.
Lord, why am I like this?
I’m a grown-ass man who is still afraid of the dark.
Shivering, I pull the tissue up over my shoulders.
Roll to my other side, fluffing the wadded-up clothes that have become my pillow because I hadn’t wanted an argument from my roommate by asking to borrow one of hers.
She’d give you one if you bothered to ask, she’s not an asshole.
It’s one night—you survived Hell Week during football training camp, you can survive one night in a camper with shitty bedding.
I continue telling this to myself as I lay here, flipping to my back after I can’t settle in on my side.
Sigh loudly.
Stare at the ceiling a good three minutes before sighing again and rolling back to my left.
“How’s it going in there?” Juliet shouts from the small bedroom, oblivious to my plight no more.
“Fine,” I lie.
“You don’t sound fine.”
That’s because I’m lying on a board with only a thin blanket to warm me, thanks for caring.
“I am.”
Juliet is quiet for a few seconds before I hear her soft laughter. “You know, that’s what my students always say when I ask ,but they’re usually fibbing because they feel embarrassed I’m asking.”
“I’m not embarrassed. I just…can’t sleep.”
Not only am I extremely sore, stiff, and cold, it’s impossible for me to train my ears from listening to the whistling wind and sounds from outside.
“Anything I can do to help?”
Yeah—you can let me on my half of that bed.
“No, we’re good.”
“You sure? Do you want a bedtime story?”
That makes me smile in the dark, Juliet sitting on the end of my bed telling me a story to make me sleepy.
Won’t work, but cute idea.
“Ha.”
We’re both silent after that and eventually I go back to staring at the ceiling, listening, thinking, mind filled with all kinds of random thoughts.
Wishing Juliet and I had connected sooner rather than finding our middle ground today.
Why had we not met sooner—why had Thad and Mia not introduced us before this weekend?
I like her.
Am attracted to her.
She’s cute and funny and smart.
A teacher? Yes please. Not that I have a fetish or anything, but the idea of her molding young minds turns me on in a way that wouldn’t turn me on if she were an accountant or an architect or something.
She’s a bit bossy and I like it.
After I’m lying here a while, there’s a rustling sound from the other room and the bedroom door slides open.
I can’t see Juliet but I obviously hear her when she asks, “Davis? Are you awake?”
Uh, duh—I’m lying on a table and I have to be up for the airport in a few hours. “Yeah, I’m awake.”
“Did you hear that noise?”
I crane my ear, listening. “What was it?”
Her feet shuffle. “I don’t know—sounded like sticks breaking but nearby? Do you think someone is out there?”
Someone—or someTHING.
I swallow, trying to be brave. “I’m sure it’s nothing but the wind…” Says everyone in every horror movie before they go get themselves murdered.
Crash.
Juliet
“What was that?” I’m definitely not going to be able to sleep tonight if I keep hearing strange sounds outside the camper and not know what it is that’s making it.
I walk over to the bathroom and flip on the little light, not wanting to illuminate the entire interior ,but wanting to see where I’m going.
“You heard that too?” Davis’s eyes are wide and he looks terrified, sitting up now and is it just me or is he clutching that blanket to his chest?
“I’m not sure what you think you heard, but I heard what sounded like cans maybe? But there are no garbage cans outside?” It’s a statement and a question, both at the same time, curiosity has me walking through the camper and to the little front door.
“You are not going out there!” Davis tells me, anchored to his spot.
“I heard something but it’s probably nothing but the wind, chill out.” I glance at him over my shoulder as his eyes dart into the woods, his one missing eyebrow looking decidedly ridiculous without its matching pair. “Why do you look like you’ve just pissed your pants?”
“Because I am pissing my pants.” He sounds mildly disgruntled.
“You’re funny.” And cute.
I laugh, unlocking the screen so I can open the other one.
“Don’t open that, are you insane?” Davis hasn’t moved from his spot on the bed—or table, whatever that is he has to sleep on, poor bastard. Looks dreadfully uncomfortable.