“Hang on.” Through the line I hear her quiet steps followed by the soft click of a door. “Tell me what’s going on.”
I drag my fingers over my eyes. “Nothing. It’s dumb. I…couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d get some work done, but I didn’t look at the clock before I called you.”
Another yawn. “Why can’t you sleep?”
I shrug, forcing my tone to remain light. “Restless, I guess.” When she doesn’t respond, I add, “Did I wake John?”
“Don’t worry about him. He sleeps like the dead.”
The line stills. I should hang up, let her go back to bed. Instead, I swallow the thickness in my throat and confess, “I didn’t sleep last night either.”
“No?” I only shake my head, but my friend senses it. “Talk to me, Han.”
“I’m fine, I swear. It’s just…quiet, you know?”
“Yeah,” she sighs.
Neither of us say anything right away. It’s only a second, but the wood floor groans from down the hall and I flinch in response.
Kristen speaks first. “Well, I’m up now so I’ll come over and we’ll get this event timeline knocked out. One less thing to do on Monday.”
She’s already moving through her house. “Kris, no. You don’t need to come over here. This was stupid, I shouldn’t have called. Go back to bed.”
“Too late. I’ll be there in ten.”
My mouth falls open, ready to object. Ishouldobject. But I can’t seem to make the words come.
Kristen stays on the phone until she pulls into my driveway, claiming she needed me to help her stay awake on the drive. I know better. And when she comes inside, she doesn’t ask why all the lights are on or why the television is so loud. She simply turns everything off and walks me back to my room. I follow her lead and climb under the covers beside her, propping my computer on my lap to match her.
There’s no inquisition. No coddling. No pitying looks. Just a friend showing up for another friend.
I fall asleep twenty minutes later.
The smellof coffee lures me to the kitchen where I find my best friend leaned against the counter, mug in hand.
“Morning,” she says.
I rub the tired from my eyes. “Morning.”
“Coffee?”
“Please,” I answer, pulling Rowan’s hoodie over my head.
Sleeves tugged down, I take a seat on a barstool as she sets a steaming cup in front of me.
She eyes me sideways, a smirk tipping her lips. “I guess now I understand where the sweatshirt came from.”
I smile into my coffee but neither confirm nor deny the years-long mystery of Hannah’s army hoodie. My story of buying it at Goodwilldidn’t survive theoh look there’s a hot soldier named Rowan who knows your name and defends your honortest, apparently.
“Goodwill my ass.”
I choke on my coffee, wipe a bit from my chin. “You sleep okay?”
“Like a tit-drunk baby. But that’s what I get for letting John choose our mattress. Yours is so much better.”
“John would disagree.”
“John would be wrong.”