A Wise Girl

I genuinely had no idea why I was still here. I had school tomorrow and I wasn't too keen on the thought of wearing what I had one from yesterday to school. I looked down at Blay, furrowing my eyebrows. How he could be sleeping in such an uncomfortable position, I'll never know. He had his head resting on my lap and hais legs were elevated, resting on the edge of his bed. I refused to move because doing so would wake him up and to be completely honest; the dark circles that had tormented his under eyes did not go unnoticed by me. He looked mischievous, even in his sleep; the corners of his mouth lightly pulled up almost as though he was daring you to wake him. I reached out and ran my fingers through his cropped hair, mindlessly tracing patterns into it. He sighed in his sleep causing a smile to sprawl across my face. He was warm against me, but I could tell that the night would get colder. Much to my own dismay I would have to get him onto the bed, if I didn't want him freezing to death and I was sure Elliot had borrowed my car to drive himself home leaving me stranded here for the night. Sighing, I leaned down to rest my forehead against his, whispering his name.

His eyes snapped open, revealing those golden flecks hidden deep within the darkest depths of his eyes. "Bed time, love." I muttered as I let out a small yawn of my own. Much like predicted, Blay and I spent most of the night mindlessly playing video games and raking through his iPod for bands that we both listened to, finding that we had a lot more I common that we first though. He absolutely sucked at any of the classic video games that did not include shooting zombies or other moving targets and he had revealed that the painting on the wall was in fact his own after I stared in awe demanding that he revealed where I could get similar wall paper. He had promised me that he would do something similar for my walls at home and I was oozing with excitement at the thought. My room looked far from lived in, all the walls were blank and everything was stacked neatly away, some boxes even remained unpacked. The fact was that I spent little to no time at home, it just wasn't comfortable for me and mum was too busy trying to keep food on our table for her to be at home. I'd taken up my own job, chipping it and paying for the groceries and my own aspects of living with the wage, but I knew that my mother had a full plate and I was beyond grateful for the effort that she was making for the both of us.

He slowly stood up and I joined him, walking over to the small wooden drawers in the corner of his room that held his clothing. Everything was neatly folded in there, the top drawer being dedicated to CD's, movies, games and other discs whilst the second held underwear and socks. It took me two tries before I finally found his t-shirts and grabbed a random one. He had managed to pull off his pants and flop onto his bed in his boxers and shirt, the covers kicked down. I never denied that the boy was fit. He was fit and his addiction to the gym really showed through although he was always lounging about whenever I see him, I'd come over multiple times and found him in the little gy room their family has, joining in and spending hours just running on the treadmill while he rotated around the room before he kicked me out, mumbling about killing myself if I run for any longer. He still had one thong on (that's Australian for flip-flop). I shook my head at his laziness and began the tedious task of removing high top converse shoes and skinny jeans. Blay had seen me in a swimsuit and to be completey honest I didn't feel uncomfortable taking my clothes off in front of him. What was the difference between a swimsuit and regular underwear, I mean really I never understood the unwritten rules about the differences. I slipped into his shirt, folding my clothing and placing them on his desk before walking over to the lights and flicking them off.

"I get first go at the shower tomorrow." I muttered as I slid onto the side of the bed he wasn't occupying, dragging the blanket with me and lazily draping it over his chest.

"Sure, but only if you give me another strip show." He teased back as he wrapped and arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him, my bare legs instantly becoming entangled with his. Once again I was shocked at how easy this felt, not uncomfortable but nice. I suspected that I was turning soft all of a sudden because I had suddenly developed a taste for displays of affection.

"How long since you've slept, Blay?" I questioned, his tired voice causing curiosity to bubble in me. I reached out to touch his face, practically forcing him to close his eyes. After mumbling something about my fingers being cold, he grabbed hold of my hand, placing it on his lips and blowing on it, forcing my hands to become warmer. I shivered lightly taking in this side of the boy who I had loved to hate on. It was gentle and reassuring, a kind of comforting that I'd never before experienced and as I sat there, I could feel myself slowly getting addicted to this side of him.

He told me it had been a few days and that he couldn't sleep no matter how hard he really tried. I nodded in understanding before yawning again and letting the room fall into a comfortable silence, once again not minding how very different this was to our usual behavior. The last thing I remember before blanking out was hearing a light snore from Blay, realizing that it was somewhat comforting and burying my face into his chest, the smell of cinnamon and chocolate filling my nose as I inhaled deeply feeling completely relaxed and allowing sleep to consume me, putting my thoughts to rest and just allowing me to enjoy the moment.

*

She was different the minute she walked in that day; I could see it in her. She had hastily walked inside, not even bothering to knock on the door, flopping down on the love-seat adjacent to the sofa I was on. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was in it's typical state of a naturally wind blown look. Murphy followed in shortly, looking like a man who had just witnessed his dog being slaughtered. He instantly covered up the emotion, flashing Gabe a smirk that he threw around constantly, not being able to muster up an actual smile. Tuesday was running a hand through her hair in frustration muttering about something that was obviously getting at her carefree façade. I watched intently trying to peice together the words whe was muttering but nothing really stuck My lips twitched aching to insult her in our usual manner of conversation, but I couldn't form the words; not being able to do it when she looked so different. It was like someone had ripped away her personality and left her with this shell shocked grumbling mess.

Her other hand was rubbing down her knees in a self comforting gesture, her black jeans sticking to her like another skin, a deep red vest top barely reaching down to her naval casually thrown into the look. She looked pale, clammy almost, like she had just experienced something that scarred her. The girl had a tough skin, not literally, she just seemed to able to take anything in her stride, writing it off as irrelevant or a joking manner. Her sun kissed skin had a waxy look that was almost dulling, her blue eyes flickering around the room in deep thought. After what felt like hours of observing her discomfort, I managed to pull my gaze away, settling on the pair that was talking animatedly. Gabe was one of those people who spoke with their hands, throwing around crazy gestures that didn't really do much to help with the conversation. Elliot was nodding back at him, adding little snippets into the conversation whilst Bran was hooting at something that came up.

Murphy's gaze managed to snap up every so often to scowl at the girl who had just adjusted herself, pulling her legs up to sit cross legged, still hastily running fingers through her hair. I was dying to ask her what the fuck was wrong, but I knew that now was not the right time or place and refrained no matter how badly I wanted to interrogate that fiery girl. Murphy had this infatuation with her and I seemed to be the only one that was perceptive to it. The minute Brandon had introduced her to the guy, I could virtually see his heart melting into a puddle instantly being whipped by the only girl in the world who refused to partake in anything remotely serious. I knew there was something off about the guy, this feeling of destruction would just work its way into my guts whenever he was around. I had known him since seventh grade and even then, we'd managed to hate each other. His intensity always made me squeamish, knowing that he would snap one day and that it would be painful...

We were in my room and she was talking about DevilDriver ranting about how amazing the drummer is. I watched her as she started to do that thing where you tilt your whole body as you begin to turn the car in the game, as though moving yourself would assist the movement of the character on the screen. Her tongue was poking out between her canine teeth in concentration as her eyebrows pulled together. Smiling to myself, I managed t focus back on the game that I had adored as a child, throwing the character over little obstacles and to the finish line. I was coming last, again, not really being able to pay much attention to the game when she was sitting there looking so adorable. I never thought that the word I'd use to describe Tuesday Atlanta would be adorable but it seems as though hell has finally frozen to the core. Tuesday let out a laugh; the bell like sound coursing through my spine, sending a course of shivers down my body. She smacked a hand over her mouth realizing that we were both supposed to be quiet. I was glad that she was finally out of that jittery state that she had fallen into earlier today, returning to the sunny character that she usually was. It was actually a little disorientating seeing her like that and it genuinely made me anxious.

After the game she crawled over to my iPod dock, her long limbs moving with steady and graceful strides. Her tanned arms wrapped around her knees as she sad back down, her long fingers curling around the device as she scrunched her face up at it. She literally guessed my pass code first try, quirking an eyebrow at me in amusement. I shrugged; no one else really seemed to assume that I would have such a simple pass code.

"Mine's actually the same." She shrugged a small smile playing at her lips as she flicked through files on my iPod. She stopped to stare at something on it, smiling at the gadget with a look of fondness in her eyes, unconsciously touching her neck, grabbing the small chain that always hung there. Her painter finger nail tapped against the pendent habitually as she gazed at the device before looking up at me, gazing back into my eyes as she smiled sheepishly.

"I remember when you gave me this... I literally thought you had a fever." She quipped up, smiling and taking the iPod with her as she crawled over and slumped down next to me, on the floor at the foot of my bed, showing me the picture of myself and her sitting on the park bench sticking our tongues out at the camera; in her hands she held a small golden box. It was the day of her birthday and I had gotten her a necklace, nothing to fancy really: it was a clover that seemed to have been encased in a crystal, bound by a small leather chain. She was still looking down at the picture, mindlessly fiddling with the crystal that since that day, seemed to be permanently chained to her neck.

"I saw it down at the markets on Botany Beach. I pretty much instantly thought of you, so I bought it." I shrugged it, still remembering the day I had bought that for her. The guys had dragged me down there to 'check out the booty' on spring break. I'd walked past the store with the crazy looking lady sitting at the front, but something twinkled in my peripheral vision and my eyes instantly snapped to the dangling crystal that was hidden somewhere at the back, behind the hipster pieces of jewelry that seemed to scatter across the arranged stand. Looking closer I had seen the little green clover encased in the rough jewel and reached out to touch, much to my surprise it was warm. My mind settled on a memory of Tuesday running to a clover patch, yelling about something finally being the same as it was at home. I bought it, the woman placed it in the box and a few days after that, I had presented it to Tuesday who had blinked several times, placing a hand on my forehead trying to get over the fact that I had actually done something nice for her. I knew that I wasn't the most pleasant person to her and I didn't shower her in compliments constantly but it did surprise me that she thought so lowly of me, assuming that I was incapable of being nice to her. However, I couldn't blame her. I'd given her no reason to think I was capable of being kind or present any other redeeming quality.

I shot my eyes to the corner of the screen, noting that it was midnight. Suddenly I felt like a kid who was about to attend their first sleep over. You know that fucked up feeling you get in your gut when you're nervous or excited and you just sit there with that constant roller-coaster-dip feeling that excites you and makes you want to regurgitate all of the food you ate that month. That's how I felt only it came crashing dwn tenfold. I yawned, stretching my arms out and scratching my neck. Before long, my head was in Tuesday's lap as she flipped through the music on my iPod, starting up a Mayday Parade song that was definitely in my most played list. I smiled up at her as her hand shot up to run through her hair, one of those habits that she had. Unlike most girls she never feared messing up her hair; in fact I think she liked it messy. When you see guys with that 'just got out of bed' look you think it's pretty much gender strict, but Tuesday seemed to have no care in the world for the state of her hair and just ran her fingers through the soft locks whenever she was thinking the look worked for her and I found it more attractive than those girls who fussed over having it perfectly pinned in place. The action, to her, was almost as natural as blinking and I knew that she didn't actually realize she was doing it.

"You smell like honey." I blurted out, reaching up to tug at a lock of her hair that had fallen from behind her shoulder to dangle just above my face. It felt odd; being this close to her. She was basically a brother to me, someone to torment and talk to, and someone to have fun with. Today however she felt more feminine, bringing out the gentler side of me because it really doesn't matter who you are: If you're a dick to women - you don't get to call yourself a man.

"It's my soap. I'm too lazy to find anything new so I just buy it every time I go shopping." I nodded in understanding. I never understood why girls needed to try all these new things. If you liked something, stick to it and stop complaining when you don't like the new product you've got. I'd been using the same soap since I was 4. It was the soap my grandfather used, I was glad he didn't smell like lavenders like all the other old people. I soon began to associate lavender with death.

Tuesday smelt warm and comforting, like honey and something salty like a beach when it rains. Her skin no longer looked waxy and in fact it seemed to look really soft, the sun kissed colour looked natural, but I knew that she enjoyed being active in the sun. When you think about it, Tuesday virtually had the personality of a little kid. That stage in life where gender doesn't really matter and you all run around flinging mud at each other, grinning like idiots spending hour after hour in the sun: carefree and playful...

"Where'd you get the wall paper by the way? Of the city lights... I want something like that on my walls." She muttered as she looked at the painting on my wall, her eyes raking over it making me somewhat nervous. I never really let anyone into my room, it was somewhat of a sanctuary to me, a safe place without judgement or expectations.

"I painted it myself." I admitted sheepishly, throwing a smile up at her.

"Wow it's amazing Blay. You'll have to do the same for my room..." Her voice trailed off as she fell silent, thoughts seemed to haunt her as she dragged her hand through her hair once again. I would have asked what was wrong, but I felt as though it wasn't my place. In all honesty, we barely knew anything about each other, we had one of those relationships where it didn't matter if we knew the other's favorite colour; we still managed to get along without any problems. That being said, she knew me better than most people. Sure she couldn't tell you what I had first periods, but she knew what I was feeling and she knew what to say to make me feel better or even to piss me off. She didn't know much about me but she knew me and she could see through me...

Something was placed on my forehead and I heard someone whisper my name. I hadn't even remembered closing my eyes but as I opened them they focused on strands of red hair before finally finding a pair of eyes. I looked into the depths of her eyes, not really quite sure why I'd just realized how complex they really were, the slivers of colour blending in but at the same time clashing, all shades of blue just pooling around in her eyes looking almost like the ocean itself. It would take me years to be able to capture even just a fraction of the emotion that she held in her eyes, they really were hypnotising and so very alluring. There was nothing but beauty and rawness in her eyes and it was serene almost transcendent.

"Bed time, love." She mumbled in a small voice, leaning her head away from me and letting out a yawn, her hands balling up into small fists that rubbed at her eyes in an attempt to stay awake. I battled with the smile that was trying to force it's way onto my face as I realized she was comfortable enough to stay the night with me. Somewhere in my brain there's a small part thinking 'bone that fine ass you idiot, don't be the dumbass that becomes a cuddle buddy.' But I managed to ignore it, just staring at her for a few more moments, taking in every aspect of her face. Her cute little button nose and her high cheekbones that compliment the soft curve of her jawline. Her face was shaped like an upside down tear drop and her delicate features were beautiful and feminine, however there was an emotion so deep in her eyes that made her look fierce, her red hair ablaze around her face, capturing the essence of her 'do now think later' personality. There was single freckle just to under her eyebrow, barely missing her right temple and her cheeks caved in forming dimples as she smiled slightly at me, her thick rose coloured lips pushed up at the corner revealing her clistening teeth with canines that were slightly longer than the others.

I managed to pull myself up, hating myself for missing the warmth of her skin. I was not going to turn into fucking DiCaprio or worse, I could turn into a block of cheese. It was like I was conflicted, part of me knowing that the way things were was perfect and that I didn't want to fuck that up, but this small, very minuscule part of me just wanted to hold her in my arms and never let her go. It was a part of me that screamed to protect her, preserve her fragile ways screaming at me for not seeing the helpless girl that hid behind the tough, carefree exterior. But that was just my tired mind looking into aspects that shouldn't be investigated. My eyes were starting to sag as I tossed my jeans off, managing to flick the covers off my bed and fall into it and attempting to flick my flip-flops off, a small groan escaping my lips. It really had been that long since I got any shut eye.

I watched as Tuesday began to shuffle through my clothing drawers in an attempt to find something. She pulled out one of my old band tee shirts and smiled slightly before bending over to untie her shoe laces, struggling to get them to cooperate with her. I nearly groaned at the sight of her bent over, her back towards me. After she successfully threw her shoes off, her started to take her pants off, sighing as she started to peel off the tight item of clothing, squirming as though the struggle would help her escape the grasp of the skinny jeans. If it were any other girl doing this, I would have been shocked at her openness and completely turned on by her confidence, but it was Tuesday and I knew that she felt comfortable around me and that her brain didn't work on the same wave length as most girls. However I was still surprised that she stripped her top off without even the slightest of hesitation. She was wearing a pair of blue underwear with laced sides and I was beyond glad that she was distracted enough not to hear my grunt of appreciation, Shedding off her shirt she quickly replaced it with mine, the shirt falling to a point just below her ass. She looked over at me, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she saw me, shaking her head before making her way over to the light switch near the door and flicking it off so that we were in a room almost completely dark with just a few rays of light lingering through the window. She sat down at the edge of the bed, collecting something before sliding in next to me.

"I get first go at the shower tomorrow." She teased, her accent making it sound sarcastic as her arm came around to slide over my chest, successfully dragging the blankets I had kicked off over us. Her hand slid back to her side as she turned to face me, a small tired sigh escaping her lips.

"Sure, but only if you give me another strip show." I managed to make myself sound light hearted, thankfully. I hesitated before I reached out, pulling on her waist to bring her in closer to me, tucking one arm under her head, acting as a pillow, feeling her breath fan out over my neck. Our legs combed over each other, her soft bare skin sliding over mine before resting in a comfortable heap of entangled limbs. It felt quite natural to be holding her like this and I knew that I could get used to it, I felt more relaxed with her in my arms, breath fanning out onto my neck, than I have in months.

She reached out to touch my face, gently sliding her fingers across my drooping eyelids, closing them, he soft touch almost enough to put me to sleep right then. She asked me how long it had been since I slept. Her fingers felt like ice as I reached out and grasped her small hand with my own larger one.

"Your fingers are so cold." I mumbled as I placed her fingers on my lips, rubbing them gently with my own fingers and blowing on it until they began to warm up. "It's been a few days, actually. No matter how hard I try, I just can't seem to get any fucking sleep." I confessed as I sighed, relaxing as her hand rested on my chest, her fingers spreading out, and her thumb rubbing circles in a comforting motion. I swear to God I stopped breathing when she did that. After the initial shock the gesture became soothing and I sighed, completely at ease and content, unconsciously pulling her closer to me and running my thumb over the exposed skin on her back due to the fact that the shirt she was wearing had ridden up. And that, is how I fell asleep with Tuesday Atlanta tucked into my arms, comforting me with the small gesture.