Treehouse

"I can't believe you told her all the details, she didn't need to know them."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know it would bother you."

"Okay," I forgave him, though he still needed to answer another question. "Why did you let her give me these to wear?"

He did not answer. The only conclusion that I could draw from that was that he did have something to do with it. Why would he? Only one explanation came to mind. I so wanted it to be true, but I didn't get my hopes up. I racked my brains for a different, but still quite logical explanation. Surprisingly, I could find a few.

the sudden sound of his sweet voice brought me back into the room. "Because..."

He still couldn't answer properly, and I could see him thinking. What was he thinking? Why couldn't he answer? I needed him to answer, before I went insane!

"You're killing me here, just answer."

"Erm... because... because..." He was still struggling.

"Stop trying to avoid what you want to really say."

"I'm not," he lied. I shot him a look and he immediately answered, "Erm, because I thought you'd look good in it."

"And do I?"

"Yes," he was too predictable. It was obvious that he was going to say that, he was too modest to say anything else. Did he really mean it though? Or was he only saying it to make me feel good? If he was, he was doing a pretty good job of it. I felt immensely happy. I was elated. Just because of that one word that he had spoken.

"Thank you," I whispered.

I switched the hair dryer on and held it up to dry my damp hair. I'd never realised until then exactly how long my hair would be if I straightened it. Maybe I would tomorrow, if Sara hadn't planned anything, which knowing her she actually had. I started to wonder what she may have secretly arrange for us. I didn't like what I was thinking, so quickly diverted my thoughts elsewhere. I thought about my hair, which wasn't drying very well at all. I wondered whether Sara had a spare bobble, and a better hair dryer. I had completely forgotten that Steffan was in the room.

"You look like something's bothering you. What's up?" It made me happy to know that he was at least relatively concerned about me.

"Nothing, I'm just thinking." I sighed.

"What about?"

"My hair."

"Oh," he sounded a little disappointed. Then he ran his fingers through my long, red locks, "I like your hair."

"Thanks."

We then sat in silence until I had finished my hair, Which actually took quite a long time (a side effect of having long hair). I just wished that it took even longer; I could tell I was going to be asked more questions. Too much of my attention seemed to be focused on him - I could tell by the way he acted what he was going to do, I could even read his emotions. Was I supposed to do all this after knowing him just for today? I was slightly scaring myself. The silence deafened me. It had been too long, too long without hearing either of us speak. But I didn't want to be the one to break the quiet. I felt awkward, too awkward. I needed something to keep me occupied.

So I switched on the T.V., I didn't particularly want to watch it, and had no intentions to do so. I just needed something to listen to, I didn't care what, just something, anything. I flicked through the music channels which were available to free-view, sat on the bed, closed my eyes and listen. Shockingly, I found that I was tired. Me, tired, after my hour-long slumber? It seemed impossible, but I was. I felt incredibly tired for someone who slept just an hour ago. My sit soon turned to a slouch, then a lay. This time it was the music that sung me to sleep...

The nightmare was slightly different this time. At the bottom of the ditch there was no fire, but the floor and walls were completely covered with foam, the type of foam you expect to see covering a room in a mental institution. It was like being surrounded by mattresses. I felt like I was as crazy as anybody in a mental institution. Well, I guess it was better than being burnt alive. The mattress-like roof began to close in. It was coming faster and faster. Down, down, down, just a I had done earlier. I began to panic.

But Sara's voice rescued me. "How much sleep do you need in one day Soph?"

I peered upwards. I could see them both standing over me, staring at me, Sara looking quite shocked, and Steffan slightly sympathetic. Relief filled me when I realised that he was still there. I loved his presence, I made me feel complete.

"Sorry," I muttered, still waking up.

"It's okay," They both said in unison.

Sara continued. "Hey, Drake brought your clothes round."

Then Steffan. "When she says your clothes, she means you wardrobe,"

"He's serious, and we've decided to take you shopping tomorrow, it's like you own nothing but jeans." She looked at the clock. "Sorry Steff, you've got to go, it's like nine so you've got to go now. These are my parents rules not mine, so there's no getting round 'em."

"Yeah, see you tomorra Sara, oh and you too Sophia."

And then he left the room. No more Steffan. At least I'd see him tomorrow, just knowing that gave me a good feeling. Tomorrow couldn't come too soon.