Chapter Fifteen

303K 13.1K 6.9K

"You can't sleep? Me either. Let's can't sleep together."


Clayton was acting. . . weird, to say the least. I wasn't sure what had happened, but it's like a switch turned on inside him the past week. He's become ten times more invested in figuring out ways to stop my sleepwalking - to the point we barely talk about anything else.

"Alright, I'll talk to you at lunch tomorrow about what I find online tonight. See ya'." Clayton stood up abruptly from his seat, shutting his laptop with a far too cheesy smile. "Bye--"

"Wait, Clayton. We just got here - like, ten minutes ago." I noted, as if that would glue him back to his seat. I wanted to talk. Really talk. Not about different methods to fix me. I wanted to talk about his day and how it's going with baseball and his teammates. "You haven't even finished your shake."

I don't know what I expected him to do or say, but I needed something - anything, in return to not make me feel like I've done something wrong. When I texted J.K. about his strange behavior, she told me he might be going through something and was throwing himself into this to get his mind off of it. It sounded plausible, but why couldn't he make actual conversation with me, too?

"Oh," he finally said. His blue-green eyes shifted to his barely drunken shake, to his seat, to me. "Um. . . Sorry. I just really need to head home. My mom is, er, expecting me."

My shoulders slumped a little at this. The last time I remembered, his mom worked the E.R. and went in around eight to start her shift on Tuesdays. I knew this only because of my mom scheduling to hang out with Mrs. Hugh whenever she was free.

He was lying to me.

"Oh," I repeated him. "Okay then." With a curt smile and peace out sign, I brought my attention to my laptop. My Supernatural background made me feel a touch better.

Clayton was still standing there, but I dug in deep to not give him another glance.

Focus on the beautiful face of Dean Winchester, Lucy. You can do this.

"Actually," he spoke up, the sound of the chair sliding out making me smile slightly, "I'm sure I can stay for a little longer." My gaze flickered up to his and he was holding his own grin. It was moments like then that made my stomach tie in knots. "Jacob left a few days ago, right?"

I gulped down some of my shake and nodded. It was tough seeing him drive off into the sunset, but I knew Jacob would be back.

The damn charmer even managed to head back with Abby's number.

"I almost forgot; he said and I quote 'farewell, Clinton. Remember what we talked about - or something along those lines. He's weird, sorry," I quickly added, chuckling.

For a fleeting moment his face turned pale and fell, but he recovered soon after. No telling what Jacob told the poor boy. God forbid I have an actual guy friend - who might be my mega-crush, sure - and want to hang out with him. Imagine him if Clayton and I were an actual item.

"Lucky me." He rolled his eyes with a soft smile. Then, when he finally took a few sips of his shake, he said, "I heard Wesley asked you to the fall formal."

I somehow managed to gulp down my own shake without choking. He had stated it so casual; it made me stare at him, bug-eyed. How did he know that? Why did he know that? Why was he bringing this up?

"Sorry," he added sheepishly. "Word spreads like wildfire in the. . . locker rooms. Yeah, the locker rooms. He was pretty upset about it."

My nose crinkled at this. Wesley was anything but upset when I politely declined his offer. He had come up to me after school on my way to the parking lot with a printer paper scrawled with the words 'WILL YOU GO TO FALL FORMAL WITH ME'? As much as I was charmed by his gesture, Wesley wasn't always a good guy. I knew that only because one of my old friends dated him for two years and he ended up cheating on her. I could never break the girl code going out with an ex, yet alone date a known cheater. That's inexcusable.

SleepwalkerWhere stories live. Discover now