Sleep evades me. There's a gap in the curtains of my trailer that casts moonlight over my bed. My eyes keep shooting over to that gap to make sure that someone isn't staring in it.
I haven't ever been on one to watch horror movies, but there were several that I let my brother talk me into when I was in high school that I now regret watching.
What if they break into my trailer and take me now? It wouldn't be hard at all. Like Thomas told me before - trailer locks aren't difficult to break. Slate knows my exact lot number; lot twenty-seven.
Several hours pass and I'm still wide awake, listening to the quiet snoring of Red at the foot of my bed.
I'm nothing short of paranoid and I know it. Every sound makes me jump, and clench up with fear. Every time the blowing wind jostles my trailer, or a twig snaps outside, or someone's feet crunch by as they head to the bathroom.
Before I know what I'm doing, I slip out of bed, shrug on my jacket, and step outside, finding myself in front of the door to the camp office. Deciding to knock because it's so late, I reach forward and knock three times, glancing around the campground that appears to be quiet.
I wait several moments before I hear shuffling behind the door, and it's pulled open. Thomas stands on the other side of it, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. When he spots me, he furrows his eyebrows in confusion.
"Stephanie?" He groans, stretching a bit, "What are you doing? It's one in the morning."
"I know."
"So, what is it then?" He asks.
I start, "I..."
Now that I'm here, standing in front of Thomas, I feel ridiculous. I should not have woken Thomas for this. I should not take anything to Thomas -I mean, he's Thomas. I'm so tired that my brain is functioning slower than usual, and the trauma from earlier obviously isn't helping it work right.
Thomas is staring at me expectantly.
"I just..." I manage to say, "couldn't sleep..."
Thomas continues to stare at me.
"I apologize, I'll just go." I say, starting to turn around, but then Thomas grabs my wrist, pulling me back around towards him.
"Is everything okay?"
I lie, "Yeah, yes, everything's okay. I'm fine."
"Are you certain?" He asks, tilting his head to look in my eyes.
I glance away, down to where his fingers are curled around my wrist. Slowly, I shake my head.
Sighing, he lets go of my wrist, gesturing me forward, "Come in."
I stare at him. He raises an eyebrow at me. I give in and step into the office. There isn't anyone is the front room, and all looks completely normal. However, there's a ray of light that comes from the door in the back of the room.
Thomas steps behind me, urging me forward, "To the back. Come on, now."
I step into the back room. It's not large, but it's bigger than the office out front. There are several filing cabinets lined up against the wall, and there's a desk near by them. A mini fridge and small shelves with food on them sit in one corner, and a tiny Foosball table sits in the middle of the room. In the very back of the room, there are two separate beds across from each other. The one on the right has obviously been slept in, since the covers are thrown back. At the foot of the bed is a backpack, and a laptop.
Thomas walks over to the shelves by the mini fridge, pulling a couple tea bags from a small box. He grabs two plain mugs off the shelves and sets the tea bags on them. Using an electric, mobile stove that is set on the top shelf, he warms up some water before pouring it into the mugs and setting the tea bags in it.
He walks over to me, stirring the liquid in the mugs gently before he hands it to me.
I glance at him, "Without honey?"
He nods as I take the mug, "Just tea. It will help you relax."
I hum, taking a sip. I remember my mother used to drink tea without honey when she was anxious. I wonder if she knew that.
"So, what's the problem?" Thomas asks.
I shrug, "I'm just scared, I guess. That was really unnerving. The entire situation - especially with Jacob there, being a part of it. I know he's not exactly my friend, but..."
Thomas nods, "No, I understand. Jacob's a good guy, really. He just..." Thomas falters.
"He just jumps innocent girls in parking lots for fun?"
Smirking, Thomas chuckles, "Not for fun."
"So," I start, staring at him, "What is it you do?"
Thomas closes his eyes, sighing, "I can't tell you that." He opens his eyes, looking steadily into mine, "But, I can promise you that I'm going to do everything I can to keep you out of this. You shouldn't be involved at all, and for them to jump to conclusions like that was unprofessional and dangerous."
"But...I'm already involved, aren't I?"
"Maybe, but I'm trying to get you un-involved. Trust me, Steph. You don't want to be a part of this."
"Then why are you involved in it?" I ask.
He frowns, breaking eye contact, "I can't tell you that either. Even if I could, it's stupid."
"If you would just tell me--"
"Steph, I can't tell you!" Thomas snaps, anger blazing behind his eyes. He takes a deep breath, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry it has to be so confusing for you and that you can't know what's going on, but it just has to be that way."
I nod, looking to the floor, embarrassed for prying.
"This is such a mess, " he groans, beginning to pace back and forth. He finally stops in front of me, staring me down, "Stephie, what am I supposed to do with you now?"
"What do you mean?"
He shakes his head, taking a deep breath.
I set my empty cup of tea on the desk, "Maybe I should go."
"No." Thomas says quickly, "You don't have to go. That's not what I meant. I just...you can stay."
I stare at Thomas. He stands tall, but looks comfortable in his pajamas. His hair is a mess - or more so than usual, and his eyes are laced with concern. I notice his hand reached out slightly, to keep me from leaving. Thomas who used to be mean, foul, and nothing but bad news doesn't want me to leave.
I nod slowly, an unusual, but nice feeling spreading through me , "Okay. I'll stay."
He smiles slightly, "Good."
We sit in silence for several minutes. I lean against the desk, staring at the floor, consumed by my thoughts. Thomas does the same. I can hear his quiet, shallow breathing from where he stands a few feet away.
Thomas waves me over, "Here, you can bunk on the extra cot for the night, but I'll be kicking you out at six tomorrow morning. We don't want anyone to find you here. Especially Slate."
"Oh, I don't need to-"
"Nah, come on, Stephanie." He gestures me towards the extra cot," It'll be like a slumber party. A really, really awkward slumber party."
I giggle, "All right. If you insist. But, if anyone ever asks, we have to lie and say this never happened. I have a reputation to uphold."
"I agree. The same goes for me."
We smile at each other.
Thomas grabs some extra blankets in a box underneath my cot and sets them on the bed. He fluffs the pillow a bit, muttering, "Don't worry, we wash all our bedding, so there shouldn't be any cooties on them."
I nod, "Why do y'all have two beds back here anyway?"
"Night shifts." Thomas says, "For when people roll in at night, looking for a campground. Someone is on night shift every evening. Usually it's Slate or I, since we're the two managers for the campground. But, it's been me for the past couple weeks, while Slate has been out of town."
I nod, sitting down on my cot. To my surprise, Thomas sits down next to me.
"I'm guessing I can't ask why Slate was out of town, or how his face got all bloodied up."
Thomas smirks, "You have every freedom to ask, and unfortunately, I can't answer the first. The second question, on the other hand, is because Slate is an idiot. Although, that's practically common knowledge."
I chuckle, "You and Slate don't get along, eh?"
"That's a nice way of putting, it, but you've got the gist down."
"He doesn't seem like a very nice person to me."
Thomas laughs, which is a welcome and pleasant sound, "Again, you win the award for most mild expressions this evening."
I smile, "I just mean he's a little scary."
Thomas looks at me with an eyebrow raised, "You're afraid of Slate?"
"Well, he did jump me a few hours ago."
"Do I scare you?" Thomas asks.
I chuckle, "It's not a competition, Mr. Testosterone."
He smirks, looking forward again.
I hum, "But, to answer your question - no. You don't really scare me."
He glances back over at me, studying my face, "Well, that's good, I guess."
"Do you want me to be scared of you?"
"Well, I'll be honest, it wouldn't damage my ego if I knew you were intimidated by me."
I laugh loudly, throwing my head back, "I never said I wasn't intimidated by you, I just said you didn't scare me!"
He smirks, watching me laugh still, "Awesome. That makes me feel a lot better."
I laugh again, my body wracking with silent giggles.
Thomas smirks, "But, whatever. I get it. Slate can be pretty scary. But you've got to admit, the guy has got nice hair."
"I'm not admitting that my kidnapper has nice hair."
"Well, he does have nice hair, you're just judging because he's a douche bag with a terrible personality."
I find myself laughing again, nearly to the point where I fall off the bed. I don't know why I'm laughing so much, other than fatigue that may be getting to me.
Humming, I look over to him, "So, this is where you hang out all day?"
He looks at me before he glances around the room, "Well, sometimes. I do work. But, sure. When there isn't anything to be done, I hang out back here."
"So what do you do back here, then?" I ask, perching myself on the desk, "Play Foosball all day?"
He laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling, "No. Dylan got that for the office, because he doesn't like to sit still."
Smiling, I question, "So then what do you do?"
He shrugs, smirking, "Oh, you know. Mostly I just sit around being beautiful."
I bust out laughing, "Wow, Thomas. Don't flatter yourself."
He grins impishly, "What, you don't think I'm beautiful?"
"And humble too."
"Why are you so mean to me?" He smirks.
"I'm not mean to you."
"Are too. Why are you so mean to me?"
"Have you met you?" I laugh.
He smiles, "Okay, that's fair. I probably deserved that."
"Probably?" I raise an eyebrow.
"Okay," he chortles, "I definitely deserved that."
I laugh uncontrollably, and Thomas's casual laughter echoes mine, until we're finally leaning against each other with tears streaming down our faces. His cocoa eyes squint, and his laughter rings loud and clear. Thomas is lovely when he laughs. I notice that Thomas has finished his tea now too, and holds his empty mug in his hand.
When our laughter dies down, Thomas elbows me, smiling, "Wanna hear a secret?"
"Always."
"I think you're probably the nicest person I've ever met."
I chuckle, "Really?"
"Yes. You're also beautiful."
I smile widely, "Well, I think that you are probably a nice person too. You just like to act like a jerk so people don't ever try to get close to you."
"Oh, I'm not acting." Thomas smiles, earning another fit of giggles from the both of us. Through his laughter, he manages to choke out, "But...I do exaggerate... my jerkiness!"
I take deep breaths of air, "Well, if that's your intention, you're doing a swell job of it."
Thomas has to put an arm around me to keep himself from falling off the cot, as the two of us bend over in hysterical laughter.
I wipe away some of the tears from my face as Thomas stands up (still giggling slightly), grabbing our mugs, "I think you put some kind of drug in that lemon tea, because just lemons have never done that to me before."
Thomas places the mugs in a mini sink by the shelves, "I swear, I didn't put anything in the tea. I used to buy this stuff back in England. It's just supposed to relax you, from stuff I've read. It didn't mention that the side effects were losing your bloody mind, though." He looks back at me with a grin.
"Where did you get it from? Did you bring it over from England or something? Import it?"
"No way. It's from Walmart."
We burst with laughter again, and my smile begins to hurt from using it so much.
"Wow, you and your fancy Walmart tea."
He shrugs, "I don't know. I think you could be right. Maybe they do put crack in it or something."
I snort, "From the way we're acting, you'd think they do."
The tiny back room is filled with our giggles. I scoot back on my cot so that I can lean my head back against the cool wall. Yawning, I watching as Thomas slows his breathing, his face becoming serious again.
Thomas notices me yawn and hums, "You should get to sleep. It's nearly two in the morning."
I nod, grabbing one of the blankets that Thomas has set out for me and pulling it over me. Thomas heads over to the light switch and I hear him mutter with a cold voice, "This is a one time thing, you know, Stephie?"
I watch him as he stands at the wall, but I can see amusement dancing in his eyes.
I roll my eyes, laying my head down on the soft pillow, "Whatever, Tommy."
He furrows his eyebrows, "Tommy?"
"If you are going to call me Stephie, I get to call you Tommy."
He grins, "Sounds fair."
The lights are turned out and I hear Thomas walking across the room, back to his cot. He mutters a soft, "goodnight, Stephie", and I return, "goodnight, Tommy", as I bury my face in the pillow, my eyelids growing heavier by the second.
Author-
Sorry for the slow update, it's the beginning of the holiday's here in America, so hopefully you'll forgive me. :)
-Sunny