The Game of Practice

I fell asleep as soon as my head hit my pillow at home. I was glad that the head ache I currently had would become a thing of the past until I woke up again. Normally, I didn't have dreams, but these past few hours hadn't been typical for me anyway.

In this dreamworld, I found myself at Nathan's house with Mickey. She was lying in the middle of his living room on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. Her lips were moving, but I couldn't hear what she was saying. I walked over to her, sitting cross legged to her right. Her lips parted and closed softly, whispering the same sentence over and over again.

"I haven't a clue what I am doing."

I slid my hand over hers, on top of her stomach where I could feel her breathing rhythmically. She didn't seem to react to this, though. It was like I wasn't even there, and I was watching something that wasn't meant to be seem by me.

"That's okay, I don't either." I sent a smile down to her.

Mickey finally glanced over at me, and my smile, as well as all of the feeling in my body, vanished. She looked me right in the eyes, her gaze paralyzing me. And then I woke up.

x---------------x

I jumped up in cold sweat, hyperventilating. I checked the clock next to me and noted that it was already midnight. Andy was long gone by now, and I was amazed with how many hours I had slept.

I grabbed my phone to see if anyone (hopefully Mickey) had called or messaged me. I wasn't surprised to find that I had nothing, because wasn't the guy supposed to call the girl first or something along the lines of that?

I scrolled down through the contacts in my phone and found her name and hit call. But then a few different things occured to me all at once.

A) She could have just left her number to be polite.
B) She could have left a fake phone number to be mean.
C) Weren't you supposed to wait more than a day to call?
D) The most obvious.. it was already midnight!

As I was about to end the call, she picked up. Just as I hoped she wouldn't, she answered both annoyed and tired sounding.

"Hello, who is this?"

"This Mickey, right?" I asked stupidly. Of course it was; she had a very distinctive voice. Plus, the thought that she had given me a fake number was a long shot.

"Yes. Now who the hell is this?"

I considered hanging up right then and calling back another time, but I knew that if I did, she'd probably save my number and never pick up for it again.

"Okay. It's, uh, it's Charlie."

"Oh," she sighed in relief, "hey, sorry I thought you were.. never mind. What's up?"

"Nothing, I wanted to see how you were. Can I ask, why did you leave--"

She cut me off, asking, "do you want to hang out?"

I merely stared into the phone. "What, like now?"

"Yeah! I'll pick you up in ten minutes, okay? Bye."

And with that, she hung up. I don't think I'd ever really figure out this girl.