The Third Wheel

One ~ Midnight Pickup

I don’t often sleep through the whole night and tonight was no exception.

There are several reasons why. Number one; the nightmares. Every night, the same faces haunt me, the same screams and pleads of the woman, the same shrill and heart breaking sobs of the young girl as she’s torn away. They’re always there, always tormenting me. But I’ve learned to try and block them, try to dull the horror by waking myself up. How? I picture a certain beautiful blonde lingering around the edges of the scene, performing one of her cheerleader floor routines and the abnormality of it makes the screams vanish, and with it, the woman and child.

Disturbance two; the cat. Yes, the cat, though I’m not sure he qualifies for the term. He’s more like a mini panda. He’s fat, fluffy, black and white, and very lazy. It’s how he earned his name, Panda. Don’t get me wrong, I love him to bits, but while he’s lazy and ignorant during the day, he’s far from sleepy during the night.

We have our night time routines. He sits at the foot of my bed as I jerk awake, sweating and breathing heavily as the remnants from the nightmares leave me. He waits until I sit up, blinking at me with his large green eyes before meowing and slipping out my door, expecting me to follow and give him his midnight snack. I would probably go back to sleep if it wasn’t for Panda and his bottomless stomach.

The final disturbance just happens to be that beautiful blonde figure; Sasha Jennings. I often received frantic calls during the early hours of the morning, sobs as she hysterically explains that her date dumped her, or she’s wasted at a party, sober enough to know not to get into car with her drunken ‘friends’. She never calls her parents. As far as they’re concerned, she’s this perfect, innocent and high grading (thanks to my tutoring) high school girl, who’ll go a long way.

So when my phone started playing Lovegame by Lady Gaga in the middle of the night, I automatically knew what to expect.

Groaning, I rolled over and slapped around on my bedside table, searching for my flashing phone. Without bothering to look at the ID, I answered and held it to my ear. Sasha was greeted by my string of illicit words as the phone was yanked from my numb grasp by the phone cord, plugged to the wall.

“Ok, so I know that it’s like one in the morning, but I thought you’d take it better than that,” Sasha’s voice drifted down the line, disapproving.

I managed to disconnect the phone before rolling back over in bed, pulling the covers of my head. “Sorry Cindy, we haven’t all got your perfect vocabulary and good manners,” I grumbled sarcastically as I snuggled further down into the bed.

She laughed at the irony and my use of her nickname, short for Cinderella. When we were eight and obsessed with the Disney princesses, Sasha would be Cinderella because of her blonde hair and matching baby blue eyes.

“Apology accepted, Ariel,” she giggled and I rolled my eyes.

Yes, Ariel. Strangely enough, it was the first five letters of my name anyway, so people don’t really notice the joke. While Sasha claimed my hair was just like the little mermaid’s, I begged to differ. It was a very dark brown with only the slightest hints of mahogany when I’m standing under some lights, or in the sun. It was also always tangled. There were no continuous waves or curls; it was merely a spastic array of half ringlets and weird waves. My eyes, however, were pretty damn similar. They’re the one feature that I liked about myself. They’re almond shaped and a shade of rare green, a deep sea green.

“So,” I sighed in resignation. “What’s it this time, hmm? Did Brett abandon you at Lara’s party again? Did someone maim your car, spike your drink, sleep with you then leave you? Out with it; I haven’t got all night,”