Serendipity

It's a dream

My eyes fly open.

My heart races, and I sit up, drenched in sweat. I shiver.

It takes me a few seconds to remember where I am, but then I see Tim's sleeping figure stretched out on his bed beside me and it all comes rushing back into my mind.

He has one arm tossed over the side of his bed towards me, and I suddenly want to do what he did to me earlier. I shake my head.

"What time is it?" I mutter, looking around for a phone or clock. Eventually I find Tim's phone in his other hand. Was he trying to stay up?

I gently pry his fingers away and slip the phone out of his hand. I catch a glimpse of the time when I place it on his nightstand and it turns on, alerted by the movement.

4:20.

"Nice," I snort softly. But, more importantly, it's 4:20, meaning I have anywhere from two to four hours before he wakes up. I've stayed up until morning before, so it wouldn't be very difficult, but it might be more challenging with Tim beside me. And I don't feel comfortable enough to leave his room and sit out in the living room.

Then I frown and pick his phone up again.

And, sure enough, my memory serves. His wallpaper for his lock screen is a picture of me.

When did he take a picture of me?

I squint at it, my eyes still blurry from sleep. From the looks of it, he took it while I was eating lunch with Tai. I'm laughing, and the sun makes my hair cast shadows over my eyes as the wind blows. I don't remember this moment, but the way the picture was taken makes me look genuinely happy. My eyes shine with laughter and I'm rocked slightly back so I'm leaning against the fence.

I look at Tim and put his phone back down. He looks so peaceful when he's asleep.

"When did you take this?" I whisper, extremely tempted to reach out and stroke his cheek. "I actually look kinda good."

He doesn't respond, which is to be expected of a sleeping person.

Now not feeling sleepy at all, I root around for my phone, which I find on one of his shelves. I hesitate, then open the camera and snap a picture of Tim sleeping.

The flash isn't on (thankfully) so it comes out really dark, but I still smile when I look at it. I quietly tiptoe over to his beanbag that he shoved back into the corner of his room and plop down.

I open the internet and sit back, prepared to scroll for the next few hours.

---

It's only been about an hour when I suddenly hear Tim whimper, tossing and turning restlessly.

I shut my phone off and stare at the dark blob where I know he is. I wait for my eyes to adjust to the darkness before moving.

I creep closer, crawling over the air mattress so I can lean on his bed.

"Tim?" I whisper. "Are you alright?"

He doesn't respond, grinding his teeth and mumbling something under his breath instead. I touch his arm gently after a few seconds of hesitation.

"Tim," I whisper again, a little louder this time. He flips over to face me, and this time I can see his face twisted up with grief. "Tim, wake up. You're having a bad dream."

After another minute of failed attempts to quietly wake him up, I sigh.

I chew on the inside of my cheek, debating, then sigh again and crawl up onto his bed next to him. I grab him by his arm and pull him onto my lap, holding him close. If I can't wake him up, hopefully I can comfort him enough so his bad dream goes away.

I run my fingers through his hair, frowning when I feel him shudder under my touch.

"I'm..." He mumbles, and I flinch, at first thinking he's awake. "Sorry.... Dad."

I tilt my head curiously as he trails off.

Then, a few seconds later, he finishes.

"I'm sorry I couldn't.... I've....I think I'm in love with...." I hold my breath as he pauses again. "My classmate."

That was...

Anticlimactic.

"He's really pretty," He continues, startling me. That wasn't it? And it's a 'he'? "But I don't know if he likes me...." He sighs and curls closer to me. Yeah, he's definitely not awake. "But....we kinda kissed....I'm sorry- I just..." He trembles and buries his face into my lap.

I feel my jaw clench for his sake. He never said anything about his dad, but from the sound of it, he isn't exactly someone Tim feels like he can talk to.

Meanwhile, Tim hasn't stopped talking.

"...and he has this beautiful laugh that lights up the room around him. And his eyes....I know, but- I.... I'm sorry- I said- I won't-" He gasps, flinching back as if his dream father struck him. "I'm sorry-"

I frown and stroke his face. "Hey, Tim."

"I'm sorry!" He cries out. I hold him closer, sliding down and pressing his head to my chest.

"Timothy," I say quietly, squeezing him gently. "It's okay. It's a dream."

He stops talking. His body is racked with trembles and he brings his hands up so he can embrace me. I sigh and run my fingers through his hair as he slowly calms down.

It takes a few minutes for the trembling to stop, and eventually his breathing slows down. His hand unclenches and his face relaxes, and I lean my head back onto his pillow, closing my eyes.

I fully expected that to be the end, but I hear one last thing before he goes silent again:

"Sydney...I...lo-" then he sighs and snuggles closer.

My heart skips a beat. "Hey, wait, you can finish that one."

He 'lo'? Could he be meaning 'love'?

I swallow, glancing down at his sleeping figure.

I'm not sure what he means, but I close my eyes again and feel myself start to drift off despite my trying to stay awake.

"I love you, too," I whisper, then my mind slips away from reality and into the darkness of slumber.