Chim- Sunrises through the skylight

Chapter 9

I've experienced my fair share of unsettled nights. Nights were I don’t sleep; I’m tired, but I can’t sleep. Insomnia perhaps, but most likely it’s just me worrying. I didn’t even sleep under the covers. I laid on top of the perfectly made £2000 guest bed with an elegant silver light fixture reflecting the moon down at me. I didn’t change into pyjamas, but it was warm so I just lay on the duvet in my underwear. My hair was still coated in a sticky film of hairspray and my make-up somewhat smudged from crying behind the guest bathroom door.

The last time I was this unsettled was when Cheryl heard about Ashley cheating, again, and refused to talk to me. Before that it was the night before the Brits, and before that it was the night before Popstars: The Rivals’ final. This was a different kind of insomnia/unsettled feelings. This was the kind of feeling I got when I accidentally broke my mam’s glass vase that she inherited from her own grandmother. I suppose it’s was guilt. Guilt for what? For allowing the kiss to happen. Cheryl Tweedy, or Cole or whatever, is my friend and she can only ever be a friend. If the press knew, we’d be in trouble. If her mam knew, we’d be in trouble. If my mam knew we’d be in trouble. If either of us accepted it… we’d be in trouble. The whole idea is wrong. Cheryl is my friend; that’s it. Final.

4am. Still no sleep. Maybe I want this. Maybe somewhere deep inside me wanted that kiss. A part of me felt that it was right. A part of me liked it. A part of me loved what happened. But only one part of me thought it was ok. The rest of me knew it was bad. I know myself that it was bad. I can't do things just to please one part of my complicated and disastrous excuse for a soul.

4:13am. I can hear shuffling upstairs. She's either sleepwalking or going to the bathroom. I hear her soft pads taping down the stairs. Maybe she's hungry. She probably didn't eat dinner. The quiet taps of her feet get more gentle, like she's approaching my door. I quickly roll over so she thinks I'm asleep. The handle of the door squeaks open and her little head pokes around through the little gap. She exhales heavily.

"What?" I groan in a fake sleepy voice.

"I thought you might have left. I just wanted to know if you were still here." she whispers. I can practically hear her smiling. The shape of her words fit to those coming from a smiling mouth.

"Still here." I roll over and prop my head up on my arm. "Why aren't you asleep?"

"Why aren't YOU asleep?"

"I asked you first."

She sits on the edge of the bed with her back to me. Her hands are on her lap. Something's bothering her.

"Just not tired." she mumbles with curls around her mouth.

I fold the duvet down and let her in. She's tired; more importantly, she's scared.

I pull my knees up and then slip my own legs under my tightly tucked side of the duvet. She exhales heavily and she clears her throat. She tucks her body in to mine; just like she used to.

"It's ok. He's not coming back." I put my arm over her middle and interlock her fingers with mine. She pulls our grip up to her lips and kisses my hand. It's like she thinks nothing of the kiss. She rubs her thumb over the back of my hand.

"I know what happened...with you 'n me. I know. I won't do it again." she whispers, turning her head to the side so that her voice is more audible.

I sigh, moving her messy hair off of the back of her neck with a lazy finger. A thin gold chain tickles her skin. Her mam gave her the necklace when she was young. Sort of a family pride thing I guess.

"You didn't do anything Chez. Cheryl." I correct myself.

I can hear her smiling. I can hear her lips parting and her tongue coming out to lick the corners of her lips. I draw little circles on her back, trying not to make a single sound. Because I know that if I make any noise, I'll just lead into asking about Ashley. There's so many questions I have. How did he get into the house? How long was he there? How did he leave? Did he scare her? ...does she still love him?