─── the tail endミ★ 𝐥𝐱𝐯. ✭ 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐌

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╔═════ ∘◦ ⛧ミ ◦∘ ══════╗

PETER 4:8
Above all, keep fervent in your love for one another, because love covers a multitude of sins.

╚═════ ∘◦ ミ⛧ ◦∘ ═════╝

MARCH 26, 1986; S.J.
3:03 - 3:30 a.m.

"Hmph." I groaned, unsticking my lids from each other. My sight was bleary, my chest still filled with sleep, and the digital alarm clock on my bedside table let me know it was way to early to be awake.

It was the stress of leading a manhunt that had been making me wake up at off hours. Restlessness had been happening the past few days. Still, with my mind foggy and my tongue thick in my mouth, I knew there was only one thing that could get me back to sleep.

Ever since I was little, like really little, and I would wake up in the middle of the night, my mom would get herself out of bed to heat up a warm glass of milk. I don't know if she snuck melatonin or some other drug but after I finished drinking, I would always fall asleep, without fail.

Now that I was older I obviously didn't need to wake up my mom. I could make my own milk and I had been doing it for myself for years. So with my tightly wound muscles, I pushed myself up and out of my bed, heading barefoot to the kitchen.

However, when I left my bedroom I was surprised to see a light glowing from the end of the hall. I could feel my brow furrowing at the sight. Someone was already in the kitchen. My hands went to the pockets of my checkered night pants and I kept them there as I craned my neck around the corner.

Tibby Bao was sitting at my kitchen table, her head at a slant as she wore an unfocused gaze. She wasn't wearing her thick glasses. A half-eaten cookie lay on a plate in front of her and upon closet inspection a few crumbs were stuck to the side of her mouth.

She's up too?
Guess I'm not the only insomniac.

I cleared my throat dramatically, getting the dazed girl to flick her eyes up and notice me. She snapped out of her stupor immediately, fixing her posture. "Hi, S.J.," Tibby said quickly, sliding her glasses on with impeccable speed.

"Hey, Tib-Tab," I replied, sliding past the table to fulfill my mission. "You're up too?" Cracking open the fridge, I bent down into the cold.

Tibby had been staying with us ever since our bust at Reefer Rick's. She didn't seem to want to go home after everything had gone down. My dad gets uncomfortable around crying girls—like me—and in the swell of Tibby's emotions in his cop car, he blurted out the invitation for her to stay at our house until we found Chance and got Eddie off of the streets.

She made a quick stop at her house, packed up a bag, was followed out of her house by her red-faced, shouting mother, and got back into the cruiser in complete silence. My guess was that her mom put her through the wringer for saying she was going to stay at a boy's house for the remainder of the investigation. But Tibby was eighteen like me and technically an adult, which meant there was nothing Mrs. Bao could do.

We set her up in the guest room. The one she stayed in when she had that sleepover with Chance. I had to admit it was a little strange having a girl in the house all the time. Sure there had been the occasional girl that I would sneak in and share a bed with but that was different. They didn't stay. They left before the sun would rise.

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