EIGHTEEN
Wednesdays don’t seemto draw many patrons, and before I know it, I find myself heading to bed. Thanks to Tally’s offer, I freshened up in the restaurant’s restroom, washing myself over the sink, brushing my teeth, and neatly braiding my hair.
I lay under my covers, snugly clad in my sleep pants, an old band shirt, and a comfy hoodie. It’s fucking cold in my van. I’ve already cranked up the heater, which lets out a feeble sputter as it tries to combat the chill.
Since it’s still relatively early, I decide to grab my Nintendo Switch and indulge in someZelda. Life in a van can get pretty boring without Wi-Fi or television, so I spend most evenings either engrossed in a book or lost in the virtual world of video games. But even gaming loses its charm after a while.
I follow the game’s storyline, but my interest wanes, prompting me to set the Switch aside. Rolling onto my back, I gaze at the soft, twinkling fairy lights. The gentle hum of the radio fills the space, lulling me into a state of relaxation as my eyelids grow heavier. I need a good night’s sleep to be at my best tomorrow. I’m determined to prove to North that I can do the job.
Just as I’m drifting into slumber, the radio suddenly goes silent. My eyes snap open, but the lights are still on. It’s just the radio that has stopped working.
It’s silent.
Too silent.
The silence is deafening.
My heart rate picks up drastically, and I sit up, starting to pant, reaching out to push the radio’s power button, but it stays silent. I push it again and again, but nothing happens. Pulling my knees toward me, I try to breathe, but it’s useless.
Where I was cold a second ago, I’m sweating now.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Saylor asks from where he is crouching before the bed at eye level. I hadn’t noticed him and nearly jump out of my skin at his words.
How long has he been there?
Why do I never feel him coming?
“Next time, just say ‘boo.’ It does the job,” I hiss out sarcastically, trying to catch my breath.
“What, you think I’m Casper?” He chuckles, but his eyes are concerned and never leave mine.
“You sure look like him,” I retort, making him laugh, which wasn’t my intention.
His presence soothes my nerves, and the panic slowly subsides as he fills the silence. But I’m still trembling like a leaf.
“Hey, Boo,” he whispers affectionately, his expression soft, effectively turning my remark into a pet name I don’t like.
Then why does your chest feel warm, Sloan?
“What’s wrong? What happened?” he murmurs, searching my face. “Had a bad dream again?”
I bite my lip, pondering what to say, but ultimately decide to open up to him. He’s witnessed my anxiety for the third time, and every time, he has drawn me out of my spiral. He deserves to at least know why I’m such a nutcase.
It’s not like he could tell anyone.
“The radio went out,” I simply state, hugging my knees even tighter to myself.
Saylor looks over to the radio in question and back at me. “And that triggered what?” he asks, seemingly already understanding there’s more to the situation.
I release a long breath. “I was locked away in a silent, dark room. Now I can’t stand darkness or silence when I’m inside somewhere alone.”
He furrows his brows, tilting his head as his eyes flick between mine. “Why?”
“Why what?” I ask, my voice soft. I have to look away. His ocean blue eyes are too probing.
“Why would someone lock you away?” He hovers closer to me, now only a breath away, and even though I know it can’t be, I nearly feel his breath on my throat, and it makes me shudder.
“Because they thought I was crazy,” I whisper, my eyes filling with tears I can’t stop.
