The Wallflower and the Prankster

Chapter Four: Sleep Over

Alazne

I had tons of dreams, where I lived happily ever after with some random stranger, who I forget the name of the next minute. But this wasn't a dream or a nightmare, and the boy wasn't a stranger, it was Josh.

I buried my head in my pillow, trying to shake off the dream. Sara’s scent stuck to me from one of her evening gowns. I was spending the night at the Grey’s house and resting in their guest room along with Sara. Sara had taken the bed, leaving me with the floor, but I didn’t mind. It was my first sleepover, and the dream was still fresh in my mind.

“What do you like about me?” I asked, holding my breath. I felt Joshua’s soft lips brush against my neck. He didn’t answer.

“Why do you assume I like you?” his voice was cold. Sending shivers down my spine.

“Because,” I said. Beginning to feel cautious of my next words. “You defended me.” it seemed idiotic to be saying that out loud, even in a dream. Inhaling, I held back the next words: No one ever did that for me. But I stopped myself, reminding myself I was just star-struck over him. I wasn’t in love with him, or simply liking him—I was confusing myself with gratefulness with love.

He smirked. “So what?”

The rest was foggy, but I remember how dry my throat felt, how it ached to deny the rejection. I closed my eyes, hoping the memories would slip away, but the dream stayed. Why did Josh have to defend me? I could have taken the insult, it wouldn’t be the first time someone teased me.

I laid down, and turned to my right, to avoid looking at the twin-bed. The bed had enough room for me and Sara but I could feel her anxiety while she attempted to make excuses to me and Joshua on why we shouldn’t share the same bed—I finally cracked, and claimed the floor for my resting grounds. I never slept on the floor before and it wasn’t cold but that’s probably because Joshua raised the heat in the house before we went to bed.

In the morning, I would have to shovel the snow once again, I could image the blizzard piling snow up to my knees—it’d take all day. My arms ached from all my wasted effort this morning, and the tension from Sara when we were watching the movie—I shut my eyes tightly. I hated this. Why couldn’t I have a normal life with friends? But, no one wants to be my friend, and I’m beginning to doubt it had anything to do with a frog. Who cares what you did ten years ago? Especially if no one ever liked you before that happened? You were still a girl, they’d giggle whenever they pulled your hair, and the ones everyone made terrible rumors, about your smell, your life. The frog thing was just another excuse to hate you. It always happens, you moved in grade four—I was so happy, things could finally change. Just to get your hopes dashed away by the first week. Everyone knew who you were, without a second glance. They knew you were a wallflower—and nobody else. I sniffled at my own thoughts. They were my enemy. It was said by some famous man—I think it was Ghandi, that no one could hurt you without your permission. The sad thing was, I allowed everyone to hurt me. They used me, and then walked over me like I was rotten fruit.

Loud gasps broke my attention. I quick stood up and spun on my heels in search for the noise. My eyes fell on the bed, I hastily approached. My leg had fallen asleep and it felt like I was lifting boulders with my feet.When I finally reached the bed, I placed my palm on the wall for support, which I immediately pulled back at one glance at Sara.

Ignoring her sweaty face, and how the hair was plastered to the face, I tried to make sense of what was happening.Her eyes widened acknowledging my presence. Her hands near her heaving chest—I stared at her eyes. They screamed for help—asthma attack! My mind recalled the symptoms, not knowing what else to do; I quickly scurried out the room for help.