23: The Soft Beat Of A Lullaby

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"Soybean, you alright?" Her voice sounded distant and vague as I tried to will myself to stay awake, but I was pretty sure that the task was impossible. Every time I tried to open my eyes and focus on whatever the teacher was saying, I found myself beginning to drift off in record time.

I forced myself to wake back up, realizing that the entire class was staring at me — Millie with a particularly worried expression. The teacher frowned and reminded me that if I fell asleep one more time, I was going to get detention. Since that was the last I wanted to add to the long list of shit going on in my life, I decided to sit as straight and uncomfortably as possible so that I couldn't drift off again.

Millie cast me one more cautious glance, but didn't say anything else about it since she didn't want to get in trouble as well. She knew damn well that something was wrong with me, because even though my grades were never perfect and I wasn't the best at paying attention in class, I sure as hell didn't normally fall asleep every five minutes. Nor did the bags under my eyes usually look so ridiculous. Well, maybe they did.

But reality was that I couldn't seem to get any sleep during the night, especially not in my bedroom, which meant that I had to take the other option. Which was earning myself very brief intervals of rest while trying to evade being yelled at by the teachers.

I knew that allowing myself to fall back into that vulnerable state in my bedroom was going to be difficult, but I clearly underestimated just how impossible it would seem. Every time I closed my eyes, even when my curtains couldn't have been more shut and my door more locked, it felt like I was being watched. Maybe I was. It was possible that they broke into my home and stuck cameras around. Who knew, and I certainly didn't feel comfortable enough to pretend that those sorts of thoughts weren't a possibility. Even though it would have been nice to be oblivious.

Since it was Friday, I was running on fumes from getting just about no sleep for three days. Only a few hours here or there — mostly from my study hall, because even though I definitely had work I needed to do, it made the perfect nap time. My level of functionality was dwindling rapidly, and I was pretty sure that I was just going to cease working altogether. It seemed like the only possibility left.

When class came to an end, I very reluctantly stood up from my desk and walked beside Millie. "Sawyer?"

"Yeah?" I mumbled in between a sudden yawn.

"I know that I'm trying to be patient and trusting, but this is starting to get out of hand." Millie said, casting concerned glances in my direction as we walked.

"Millie, I can't talk about it. It'll be fine, I promise." I hoped that she could find a reason to believe me through the flat tone of my tired voice.

She sighed. "You never sleep in class. You may not be the best at paying attention or appearing interested, but you don't fall asleep."

"It was just a long night." I sort-of lied.

"More like a long week." Millie replied. "I know that whatever Sam has gotten you involved in is serious enough that you don't want to tell me about it, but I'm your best friend and I'm worried. You look like you're decaying."

I snorted. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. You've never looked this disheveled and exhausted before. I'm starting to think that maybe you're going to get seriously hurt, and no one will be able to do anything about it until it's too late. I'd be an awful friend if I didn't voice my concern about that."

"And I love you." I reminded her, lightly knocking her with my shoulder so that she might understand how much I really meant that. "Which is why I can't tell you anything. I'll never be able to forgive myself if you get hurt too."

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