THANK YOU to BeautifulDead for the fantastic cover (posted to the right)
Rule number 4: If a girl falls into the following criteria, she is off limits forever until the end of time: A) Was a bro's ex-girlfriend. B) Your bro specifically told you he wanted her. C) Is your bro's sister.
Two hours later, I was lying on the most comfortable mattress in the world, my head was resting against a pillow from paradise, and for once in my life, I was actually warm enough; but I still couldn't fall asleep.
I grabbed my phone from the table next to my bed so I could figure out what time it was. Apparently it was 1:30. One minute later than when I last checked it.
I let out a long, frustrated sigh. Ever since my dad was first diagnosed with cancer, I've had trouble sleeping. It usually isn't as much of a problem when I'm at the O'Connor’s as it is when I'm in my own house, but that night it seemed like the insomnia just wasn't going to go away. I felt like I’d just chugged six Red Bulls in a row.
I slowly rolled out from under the sweat-covered, silk sheets and rubbed my hand against the back of my neck, trying to get some of the knots out. My stomach was churning, my joints were achy, and I was beginning to get the chills. This must be what Cobain felt like when he tried to get off heroin, I thought to myself. It was that bad.
So I did what I always do whenever this happens: I pulled my grey t-shirt over my head and threw on my favorite pair of sweatpants. Then I hit up the O'Connor's basement. Other than Carter's room, the basement is my favorite spot in their house. It has everything a guy could ever ask for: a big screen TV, surround sound, a pinball machine, a pool table, and it even has these little chocolate pudding cups just lying around. No lie.
Being the absolute man that he is, Carter lets me come down in the middle of the night to play with his toys. Toys, in this case, being defined as his $10,000 movie projector. One of the benefits in being friends with Carter, besides that his refrigerator holds an endless supply of ginger ale, is his movie selection. He has every movie known to man and their extended versions. It's awesome.
I was right in the middle of watching Heath Ledger explain exactly, 'how [he] got those scars' when I felt the cushions on the couch shuffle slightly. Then I heard a familiar, inviting voice whisper, “Hey, Nick.”
I turned my head to look at her. Eliza was wearing a white, One Direction t-shirt and red, pajama pants that had tiny superheroes on them. Despite it being the middle of the night, her long, blonde hair looked just as smooth and straight as it usually does. I had to wonder why she was still awake.
“Hey, Eliza,” I lowered the movie's volume so I could hear her talk.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Her lips curved into a smile. "I heard the movie from upstairs and I wanted to come watch it with you. I haven't seen The Dark Knight in forever.”
I cracked a grin. “Me neither. Thanks for the company. Sorry I woke you up though.”
“Oh, yeah you're welcome,” she answered me, “No problem. It's cool.”
I exhaled half a laugh. “Glad to hear it,” I told her, resting my head against the cushion behind me. Then I turned the sound back up and gave my attention back to Christian Bale.
Eliza shifted her position so her head was pressed against one of the arm-rests and her legs were bent, lying against the rest of the couch. Admittedly, I was distracted. It wasn't just because Eliza was there, either. I couldn't place it, but I'd just gotten this really weird, agitating feeling. It was like somewhere on my body, I had an itch, but I didn't know where it was so I couldn't scratch it.