Love, Aspen

I was lying sideways in my bed, looking out of the window when I heard whimpering coming from the living room. I rolled over and pulled the blanket back, waiting for Aspen to crawl into bed with me. Every night, she would attempt sleeping on the couch, and nine out of ten times, she’d end up in my bed around two in the morning. It didn’t bother me, it just worried me. She never wanted to talk about it, and when we woke up in the morning, I’d ask her about it and she’d shrug. She didn’t remember waking up and coming into my room, she just woke up in there. She’d always tell me.

I had trouble believing her when she said that, because half the time, I could hear her fighting to go back to sleep. Sniffing and wiping her face several times before settling in all the way. If she touched me, she would quickly retract, like I was going to hit her for touching me. Or almost like she didn’t want me to touch her, or be near her. I knew she was awake, but I didn’t want to bother her about it. If she didn’t want to tell me, then I guess she didn’t have to. I sighed loudly and rolled over in bed again, guessing she’d gone back to sleep.

I’d finally told her about Courtney the other day. She hadn’t even remembered her; not that I really tried to get her to remember. Courtney had actually gone to high school with us and had a couple of classes with Aspen, which is how she knew about her. I didn’t necessarily expect Aspen to remember who she was. Mostly because I was the only person who really knew who Courtney was, because she was so quiet and never talked to anyone. Or anyone that I hung out with, I guess. We were losers, and she wasn’t. That was it. The only reason she started talking to me was because I bought her coffee one time. She went to pay for her coffee, pulled out her handful of change, and was so embarrassed that she had to pay with change, that she dropped it all over the counter and the floor, and down her sweat shirt sleeve. I could tell the guy was getting annoyed, so I merely stepped in and forked over the five bucks.

But that’s beside my entire point. My point is that Aspen brought up Courtney because she’d cleaned Kelsey’s apartment—who was asking her questions about me. And she thought that Kelsey was Courtney. I can’t imagine what the fuck Kelsey would be doing asking her about me. She’d made it pretty obvious that she thought I was a loser and she wanted absolutely nothing to do with me. Either that or she just thought our personalities weren’t very compatible. I highly doubt it was the latter, but you know. I’m always fucking wrong anyway, so what does it matter what I think?

I closed my eyes again and listened to the apartment. Sometimes when I lied awake at night, I almost felt like I was waiting for Aspen to wake up and come in my room. It’d been a while that I’d had to sleep by myself, and I always felt slightly alone when I had to sleep in my bed by myself. And knowing that there was actually another person in my apartment, and she was so close, but wasn’t physically with me—that made me feel twice as lonely. There was just something about me being alone that I absolutely hated, and since Aspen had come to live with me, it’d definitely made things less lonely. The apartment always had some noise going on, or Aspen and I were fucking around, or outside smoking. I wasn’t by myself anymore, and that made me ten times more comfortable, which made me happier.

I listened even harder as I heard her moving around. I grew rigid as I heard her sit up. I could see her shadow from where I was laying. She looked around the room and soon enough, I could hear her crying. She ducked back underneath the blanket and then jumped, like someone had touched her. Her crying became sobbing and I heard her jump off the couch. She tripped over the leg of the coffee table and then her voice came out of her mouth, she screamed. Loud. Like someone was chasing her. I sat up quickly as she dived into the other side of my bed and buried her head underneath the blankets. She spit her voice onto the pillow, her entire body shaking. I put my hand on her back, running it over her shirt to try and comfort her. She swatted my hand away, moving her face away from the pillow.

In the dark, I couldn’t see her face. But I could just imagine how terrified she looked, how wide her eyes were as she practically screamed, “Don’t fucking touch me!”

I moved my hand away from her and reached over, tugging on the chain to my bedside lamp. “Aspen, it’s just me. It’s Matt.”

She looked at me and then towards the door, then back at me again, her voice barely a whisper. “There’s someone in your living room Matt.”

I looked at her face now in the light. “Are you sure?”

She nodded.

I threw the blanket off myself and grabbed the lava lamp sitting on my dresser. I held it in my hands like a weapon as I made my way towards the door. I flicked on both the light in my room and the entryway light. I looked around the living room and saw nothing. I crossed over to the kitchen and flicked on that light, my heart pounding as my trembling hands gripped onto my lava lamp. I looked in the kitchen, I propped open the laundry room door and looked around, still seeing nothing. I went back into the living room, more relaxed now. I checked behind the couch, around the entertainment center, and even back into the bathroom, moving the curtain. As I came into my room, I saw Aspen sitting in the middle of the bed, her knees pulled up to her chest. She was gripping the blanket in her hands, holding it against her mouth, her hands shaking.

I set the lava lamp down on the dresser. “Aspen, there’s no one out there.”

“But I saw someone.” She whined.

“Aspen, are you sure you weren’t having a night mare? You might have seen someone in the blinds or something.” I rationed. “I swear there’s no one out there.”

“Matt—“

“Aspen.” I snapped, cutting her off. “There is no one fucking out there, okay? You had a night mare. You have night mares, every single night and you come in here. Why don’t you tell me what the hell is going on?”

“I don’t have night mares.”

“Yes.” I paused, walking over to the bed and getting in on my side. “You do. You’re always coming in here, wiping your face and sniveling like you were crying. I’m not going to make fun of you.”

She turned towards me. “Whatever Matt.”

I reached out to touch her arm, “Aspen.”

And just like that, she burst into tears. They weren’t scared tears anymore though; they were upset, almost embarrassed tears. I pulled her into my chest, much like I had the other night and ran my fingers through her messy hair.

“I’m sorry.” She cried.

“Aspen, you don’t have to be sorry.” I cooed to her. “You just need to calm down. Tell me what’s the matter, why you’re having night mares in the first place.”

She rubbed her eyes and looked towards me. “It’s because of the fire.” She paused. “I have night mares about the fire.”

“What fire?”

“The one I started at the playground.” She muttered. “I have night mares about the reason why I started the fire.”

“Why’d you start it?”

She shook her head. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“I just don’t want to.” She looked away from me, her voice almost a whisper. “Not right now anyway. Maybe I’ll tell you some other time. Like in five years or something.”

The way she said it sounded like it was supposed to be a joke, but I didn’t find it funny, so I didn’t laugh.

“Maybe if you’re having such bad night mares about it, you should talk about it. It might make it better.” I said quietly.

She shook her head again, pulling away from me slowly. She wrapped herself in the blanket, leaving enough for me and rolled over. “Are you going to turn out the light?”

I stared at the back of her head for a couple of seconds before reaching over and grabbing the chain, pulling it. I turned back on my side and faced her back. My arm was on top of the blanket and I dared myself repeatedly to put it on her waist. Finally, without thinking, I did it.

I felt her body tighten up and I wasn’t sure if I should move it or not. At this point, I couldn’t just play it off. I had my arm wrapped completely around her, so that my hand was resting just above her belly button. Her arm came down slowly, like she had to think about each movement. She placed her hand on top of mine and it seemed to me that she was going to pick up my hand and drop it behind her. But she didn’t.

She gripped my fingers firmly and her body finally relaxed. She breathed out slowly and her stomach rose as she breathed back in. My heart was beating ten times every second and I felt like I was about to throw up because I was so nervous.

I had never been nervous around Aspen mostly because I had never been romantically attracted to her. She was always some girl that I was helping out, just a friend. That girl that you hang out with, but never date. That one that you could mess around with and not be jealous if she found a boyfriend a few days later; not that I’d ever messed around with her. But she was just that girl. And now that I had my arm wrapped around her, it felt like we were together. I felt emotionally attached to her. After all the things she’d been through and all the things I’d been through, we were finally going through shit together and it felt strange.

And maybe the only reason I felt comfortable with touching her was because I knew she wouldn’t reject me. She was so vulnerable at this moment that she would feel comfort in almost anything—even me.

Without thinking, I moved my hand away from her stomach quickly. I suddenly felt like I was using her, like I was taking advantage of her being scared and vulnerable. Just because she was in my bed didn’t mean she wanted me to touch her. Sensing the tension in the air, I got up out of the bed quickly and left the bedroom. I grabbed my cigarettes off the counter and my lighter and went out onto the back porch. Not long after I had lit my cigarette, I heard the door squeak open and Aspen came and sat down next to me.

She took the lighter from between my fingers and lit her own cigarette, putting the lighter on the porch. I listened as she sucked in a deep breath of the night air and then traded it for the chemicals in her cigarette. As she breathed out the smoke, she took my free hand in her’s and laid her head on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry I woke you up.” She said quietly.

“It’s okay.”

“Last night.” She paused. “When you told me that all we need is each other, I think you were right Matt.”

I didn’t say anything, merely looked into the sky and tightened my grip on Aspen’s hand.