Page 40 of Truth or More Truth
“You sure?”
She nods and sweeps her hand into the room. “I’m positive.”
The room smells like her—lemon and vanilla. I’m enveloped in it as I enter, and I pause between the beds before looking at her with a raised eyebrow.
“I don’t care which bed is mine. You pick,” she says.
I sit on the one to my left. “I know I’m being weird—” I say.
“No,” she interrupts, sitting on the edge of the other bed, facing me. “Not weird. I’m not sure what happened tonight, and I don’t need to know until you’re ready to tell me.” She takes my hands in hers. “But I’m glad you feel comfortable enough with me to be real with me—to tell me you need to not be alone, whatever your reasons are. They don’t matter. Well, they do, but what matters more right now is that you don’t have to be alone. Thank you for trusting me.”
I nod. “Not sureyoushould trustme.”
“Bobby, you’ve given me no reason to believe you’d do anything I’m not comfortable with. I fully trust you. Okay?” She squeezes my hands and then lets them go. “I need to brush my teeth, and then I’m hitting the sack. You good?”
“Yeah.” I sigh. “I’m good.” At least, I hope I will be sometime in the near future.
Melissa stands and ruffles my hair before heading to the bathroom. The feel of her touch lingers as I stare after her.
While she’s gone, I take off my my watch and set it on the nightstand. Then I consider whether I should leave my shirt on since Melissa will soon be in the bed next to mine, but knowing I’ll sleep better without it, I take it off and get myself situated under the covers, facing away from Melissa’s bed so she won’t feel the need to try to talk to me. I’ve already encroached on her privacy. I don’t want her to feel like she needs to entertain me in the process.
A few minutes later, she pads back into the room and gets into bed.
“Good night, Bobby.”
“Night, Melissa. Thanks again.”
“You’re more than welcome.”
The light between the beds flicks off, and darkness surrounds me thanks to the blackout curtains. I should’ve opened them a few inches to let a little light in. If I’d stayed in my own room, I could have. I should’ve stayed there. Why didn’t I stay there?
This is the part I dread when I’m like this—the darkness. This is when I get flashbacks to that terrible night. It was so dark, just like it was tonight when that deer’s eyes glowed at me and sent my heart straight up into my throat. I don’t always panic when it’s pitch black like this. Last night I was fine. But last night, the memories were far from me. Tonight, they came screaming back into my consciousness, thanks to not only our near accident but also learning about Nanette’s recent headaches. My heart begins to race, and my breathing turns shallow as scenes from that awful night flit through my mind.Breathe slowly,I tell myself, with my eyes pinched shut.Take deep breaths.
“Bobby?”
Melissa’s voice jolts me out of my stupor.
“Y-yeah?” I respond, taking gulps of air.
“Truth or dare?”
“W-what?” Did I hear her right? She wants to play a game right now?
“Dare, you say? Okay, I dare you to come sleep with me.”
My eyes pop open. What is she saying?
“Like last night,” she says, “except tonight it’s not to keep warm, but to keep calm. Let me help. I can hear you nearly hyperventilating over there.”
My body is frozen. I can’t sleep with her again. I can’t. My feelings for her and my need to touch her—to hold her—have exponentially increased throughout this crazy day. I don’t know if I can handle being cuddled up in bed with her, knowing we can’t take this any further than we already have. But I know for sure I can’t handle being here in the pitch dark alone.
“Bobby?” she says again. “Please say something.”
I take a deep breath and then push out, “Something.”
Melissa chuckles. “Glad to know you’re coherent, but if you’re not coming over here, I’m coming over there.”
I can’t make myself move or say anything else, and I hear her covers being tossed off. Then she’s sliding into my bed behind me. She fits her body up against mine, and when her arm settles along my side, I grasp her hand and pull it to to my bare chest, holding it tightly over my pounding heart.
