[This train is for Cape Hallows City Center]
[The next station is Metro Park]
Craige woke up to the announcement and got up too abruptly that he hit his head on the wooden frame of the bunk bed. He hissed and cursed inwardly then his gaze shot towards Zeanne.
She's sleeping against the window with a book on her lap. He looked at the empty bed on top of him and wondered why she didn't sleep there. Then he remembered that night a week ago when she told him she'd be sleeping on the sofa.
'Ah. Maybe she's too lazy to move again.'
There's still two hours left before they reach their destination and Craige was worried that Zeanne might get a stiff neck if she continued to sleep like that. So he got up, then without a preamble, lifted her up and moved her to his bed. The book that she was holding dropped open on the floor with a thud. Thankfully, she didn't wake up.
Craige turned to pick up the book and stopped midway when he noticed the writings on it.
[Dear Dairy Milk,
… I feel weird.]
He looked at the date written with the signature and it was dated yesterday.
'Is this why she was spacing out in the classroom last night?' He looked at her sleeping face.
Zeanne, based on how she was in school, was like a wild horse. She doesn't tiptoe around and just say and do what she wants. She doesn't hesitate before laughing out loud. She doesn't seem to care about how others would perceive her.
Hell, she could even confidently say who she likes as if it's no big deal.
'Nobody. Nobody, until Zeanne, could ever tell Joshua that he's handsome yet narcissistic in his face.'
It was refreshing.
And he liked her for that.
And despite seeing her occasional moodiness towards Joshua and their almost daily banter, he still wanted to be friends with her just like him.
He envied him for that.
That's why he didn't know what to feel when he learned that the free-spirit that he respected, was nothing but an illusion created by both of them.
She showed everyone only what she wanted them to see.
And he saw what he wanted to see.
It was a very well-done facade.
An act that she perfected to hide her vulnerability. To hide her scars. And to hide her still open wounds.
But instead of feeling disappointed with her, his respect for her just increased since finding out the truth behind her mask.
Because he knew better than anyone else, what it's like to have a skeleton in the closet.
And hers just happened to be a deadly skeleton that she had no choice but to hide.
'She really must be going through a lot.'
He was tempted to turn another page but he stopped himself because he didn't want to invade her privacy more than he already did. He carefully placed the diary on the table and was about to move to the couch when he felt a tug on his shirt. He turned and saw Zeanne clutching the tail of his shirt tightly with a frown on her face. He sat back down on the bed beside her and brushed away a lock of hair that was on her face. Then he found himself studying her face for a long time.
Zeanne was pretty. Especially when she's sleeping like this and not trying to mess with him, she's really pretty. She had long dark straight lashes that usually kept her dark brown eyes hooded. Her long raven hair was silky straight and looked so soft that it always made him want to touch it. Her pale face would usually turn bright red whenever she's being really active or excited. And her lips…
He tried his best not to remember the feel of her soft reddish lips against his finger and miserably failed.
In his opinion, her beauty was not the type that would immediately grab attention. But he finds himself staring at her for a long time and couldn't take his eyes off her. She whimpered in her sleep and his hand just automatically moved to touch her cheek.
She relaxed.
He stiffened.
"What's wrong with me, seriously?" He muttered as he caressed the side of her face before moving his hand away. He then took her hand that was holding his shirt and looked at her sleeping face again. "Are you always this insecure? Can't you at least let yourself rest when you're sleeping?"
Craige felt guilty.
Zeanne made him promise not to tell anyone, especially his aunt, about their conversation that night and that they know each other because she didn't want his aunt to make him spy on her.
Technically, he did not break any promise to her.
He never told a soul.
But he still 'spied' on her… For his own benefit.
Lied to her about the purpose of the tickets… For his own benefit.
Held her hand in the pretense of making her feel safe in her sleep…
He rubbed his face with his free hand in frustration then propped his head up on his elbow and gazed down at her. Heart pounding hard against his chest, he took a deep breath.
"Hey, Haile. Is this me liking you?"
He saw her face turn red in an instant as she turned her head away from him. His body went stiff for a second. 'She's awake.'
A long silence passed and his body started relaxing again. On one hand, he felt anxious about her being awake because he's worried about how she will react. On the other hand, he felt a strange sense of relief and anticipation for what her reaction will be. So he just kept watching her feign her sleep. He was pondering to himself if he should let her know that he's aware she's awake or not, when she suddenly spoke with an accusing groggy voice.
"You really have the habit of asking the most mind-boggling questions." She turned to him with still sleepy eyes. "How do you expect me to answer that this time?"
He opened his mouth to answer but he ended up just smiling awkwardly instead.
She rubbed one eye and kept the other fastened on him. "How?"
He shrugged. "I don't know either."
She let out a deep breath then looked at their clasped hands. But to his surprise, instead of brushing him off, she interlaced their fingers together and looked up at him with a serious expression on her face. "Then go figure yourself. I have a lot of thinking to do myself so don't make me solve your questions for you."
He smiled, amused by this very unexpected turn of events. "Let me help you out. That way you can help me out too. We're partners, right?"
"You're annoying." She raised their intertwined hands up and studied them. "I've been wanting to do this since that time. Never thought that you'll be taking the initiative."
That surprised him. "What time?"
She wasn't looking at him but still answered his question. "That time at the booth. I've been wondering since then, what would it feel like to hold your hand and what if I just let my hand brush against yours when we were cuffed together."
"Really?" That was all he could say because he was taken aback by how she's being so vocal about all these.
She nodded. "So this is what it's like."
His heart continued pounding in his chest that he feared it might end up exploding soon. "What is it like?"
She squeezed his hand experimentally. Her cold slender hand fit perfectly against his. "It's warm. It feels nice."
"That's it?" He accidentally asked out loud.
She looked at him this time and was in deep thought before she answered. "I want to keep holding it. But…"
"But?"
She sat up and placed the back of her hand against his cheek. They felt cold against his face that was probably boiling hot at the moment. And the way she bore her eyes on him with an unreadable expression on her face was starting to drive him crazy.
"But we have to figure out the answers to our questions first."
He frowned, unable to remember the question anymore. "Which questions?"
She smiled. An uncertain smile that he's never seen her wear before. "Is this you liking me? Is this me liking you? Or is it just the hormones and endless curiosity brought by puberty kicking in?"
He stiffened at her indirect accusation. He felt like an ice bucket had been poured on him. "I know I care about you."
That thought struck him out of nowhere but he was sure that it was true. He cared about her.
Her smile became bitter. "Really? But as far as I can remember, it was just last night that you told me that you love her."
He was stunned speechless.
He knew who and what she was talking about. And he could easily tell her that he was just messing around then, just like she messed around with him. But he couldn't bring himself to do that.
Because he knew that she was right.
They have to think this through and avoid jumping to conclusions that they might soon come to regret.
***
Dear Dairy Milk,
… Did I do the right thing?