Chapter Twenty-Three

Iwake to sun peeking in through the crack in the curtains that I must've haphazardly closed last night. I turn to my left to try to block out the light and see a head of blonde curly hair in front of me. I freeze for a second.

The events of the night come rushing back to me. Alison and I stayed up late talking and telling stories. I must've passed out on the bed. I contemplate getting up because I feel awkward but it sounds like she's still sleeping. I turn to my back and stare up at the ceiling, not wanting to wake her. We didn't get a lot of sleep and we have a show tonight. She needs all the rest she can get.

While I'm laying there locked in place, I start thinking about everything that happened last night. How Alison showed up for my birthday. How we both really started opening up to each other. I turn towards the back of her head and smile. All I want to do is wrap my arms around her and . . .

Stop.

I quickly turn my head and lock my gaze back on the ceiling. Calm down, buddy. You're still not even sure if she actually likes you. You're going to scare her away before it even begins.

I hear Alison shift next to me. I don't know why, but I close my eyes, try to slow down my breathing, and pretend to be asleep.

"Where am I?" I hear Alison mumble. Her weight shifts on the bed and she lets out a groan.

"Holy crap!" she whisper screams. I guess she just got a glimpse of me.

The bed creaks as she gets off of it. "What happened last night? Think, Alison! Stupid brain fog!" I hear her footsteps cross the room. She moans a little as she walks.

"Oh, his birthday! Paparazzi. Fell asleep talking. That's right," Alison continues. I hear her start to rummage through her bag for something. "I need to get going, but I don't want to wake him up. Is it rude if I just leave?"

I try not to laugh. Apparently Alison is one of those girls that talks to herself. It's adorable. I'm torn between ‘waking up' to put her out of her misery and staying asleep to enjoy the show a little longer.

I hear a zipper close what I'm assuming is her purse. "Crap, I'm wearing his clothes! What do I do? What do I do? I guess I can just give them back later. But what if someone catches me in his clothes and that starts all kind of rumors?"

I feel more weight on the bed as if she sat back down. I'm just about to open my eyes when she starts up again.

"Ugh, it hurts so much this morning." I hear more rummaging through a bag. "Crap, I must've left my meds in my room. I need to leave before this gets worse." I'm about to get up and ask her what's wrong but she's already talking again. "But, do I wake him first? Is he going to think I'm rude if I don't? You won't have to worry about him thinking you're rude because he's going to already think you're crazy for talking to yourself."

I hold my breathe for a second so I don't laugh. Honestly all of her overthinking is cute.

"Just leave and send him a text. He'll understand," she finally says. "Yeah, that's a good idea. Jeez, Alison, get it together."

I finally hear the door close behind me and it gets silent for a few minutes. Finally, my phone buzzes from the nightstand.

Hey, didn't want to wake you. Thanks for being my ‘getaway car' last night. See you at the show tonight.

My initial response is one of concern. She said she was in pain and needed her medicine, but why? Something's clearly wrong. I quickly tap out a message.

Alison, what's wrong? And don't say nothing. I heard you this morning. You're in pain. Why?

But my finger hovers over the send button. What am I going to say when she asks why I pretended to be asleep? That's going to just make things worse, and we're in such a great place right now. I hit the backspace button until I have a blank space looking up at me.

No problem. Glad I could help. See you tonight!

I quickly hit send before I change my mind. What's going on with her really isn't my business. If she hasn't told me, then she doesn't want me to know. But I don't like the fact that she's suffering. I want to try to help her if I can. I can't take someone else I care about suffering in silence. Not again.

"Thank you for coming tonight! I love you!" Alison shouts as she takes her final bow and exits the stage.

"Great show, Ali," I say as I walk up to her.

"Thanks, Archer," she responds as she walks right past me.

I follow behind her. "So, I was thinking . . ." I start.

"Hey, sorry, I have to go. Maybe we can talk later?" Alison asks. She looks back at me for a second. Her nose is crinkled and her eyes are squinted a bit.

"Al, is everything okay?"

"Fine. See you later," she waves as she walks off.

The look she has is the same look I've seen those past few evenings I've spent with her. Something isn't right.

That's it. I think it's time to call in reinforcements.