Looking from the TV to Barry I sighed, asking out loud "has it been three days yet?" despite knowing very well it hasn't been.

Which to some people may seem redundant, since why ask a question when you already know the answer to it? And, in most other cases, that would be the right way of thinking, sure, but not this one. Thus why I said most.

Since my best friend is a different story and people don't know him like I know him. So they couldn't possibly know how difficult it is to get a response out of him when he's as busy as he is now. With his mind and attention so far away that he could literally be on a different planet, even when he's in the same room as me.

Which happens quite often, I'm not going to lie and lasts a very long time. A long time, which in this case, will say many hours. Many hours until he's done with whatever he has to do. Or at least until I, as his best friend, pull him out of it. Which is what I plan to do with my redundant question.

Though as expected, my question is left unanswered and he is left unfazed. Not even giving me a single sign of acknowledgment. So, being the persistent person I am, I decided to try again.

This time actually turning to him and tapping his shoulder. Which could easily be called a success since he finally looks at me for the first time in a whole hour. (A whole hour after he had left me to my own devices.) To do my own thing while he took the initiative to get a head start on some paperwork for his job.

Having already picked up around the room and got all the stuff off the desk.

Since it had to be clean before he deemed the desk, or any desk, really, adequate enough for his work.

Though this desk isn't even his desk, or is it his room, in the first place. Since the room, we're in is mine, which shouldn't be hard to tell because his room would never be a mess. Ever. Mine, however, is, well most of the time at least.

So having an OCD best friend is the only reason I could still see the faded navy blue carpet on the floor. Which is good, sure, but it's not so much of a good thing when he comes over and it's still a mess. He's not happy then. No, he is not.

Which is exactly what happened today, since I didn't have a chance to pick up around the place. Though, had I known he was coming, I would have done it because I know just how much it bothers him.

Though I honestly didn't expect him to come over to my house in the first place today since I thought I was going to go over to his house instead. As we planned.

However, the idea was short-lived and shut down once I woke up at seven-thirty in the morning to the sound of my door opening and footsteps approaching my bed. Barry's footsteps. Along with his smug smile right at the foot of my bed and him saying, "Good, you're up".

Though he knew very well him walking into my room was the only reason I was up so early. Since no normal human being with the day off, or really with no real reason to get up so early, would be up as early as he was. It's literally impossible.

As well as understandable, since Barry is a great example of a not normal human being. Heck, he barely even sleeps in the first place! Since apparently intelligent people are more likely to be nocturnal. And he's nocturnal alright. Putting even bats to shame.

Though he is a human, I will admit, and sleep is important. Even the very little he gets. Running on literally four to five hours of sleep each night (with six on a good night, a very good night, and those occur only when he's finished with his work) and can still go through the entire day as normal. (Or say as normal as a 16-year genius's day can go)

Which is unfair since I can't even have the normal eight hours of sleep without being a "grouch", which is the nice word he uses instead of 'actual bitch' when he talks about me.

Though going back to where the mentioned near insomniac and I were now, I find myself face to face with my best friend as he shakes his head, "Nope, not yet."

Before adding "Why? Are you feeling that impatient? That eager to go back?" as a joke with a joking smile on his face. Which in turn caused me to scoff, practically insulted, though knowing he's just saying it to mess with me. As he usually does. Just some friendly banter between some old friends. Since he knows very well what gets to me and loves to use it against me.

Though I refuse to let him have the satisfaction, so I calmly state, "No, not at all. I'm just counting down these blessed days."

"One more to go" he explains simply and I sigh, before asking, "Okay, but like what if I don't go?"

And seeing as though this wasn't the first time the question had been brought up, his response was practically automatic. Almost as if he was a robot and it was wired into his programming to respond with a, "you have to" or just, in general, have him be the human embodiment of all things good and logical. Yeah, that side of your brain. The left brain.

Which, speaking of robots, brings back a memory of when we were younger and Barry's genius started to peak. At the time, I couldn't believe he was actually naturally that smart or weird and human and tried to find proof that my best friend was some type of weird cyborg. Which couldn't quite be impossible, now that I think about it.

"I could just come over and we can hang out." I try, "I'll say I'm sick. Or dead. Either works. No one really cares."

"As much as I would love to help you fake your death and get you out of Chemistry and Calculus, I have to go to work the day you go back" he explains and I sigh, "I'm sure your group of super-smart science nerd friends won't mind their youngest super smart science nerd friend missing a day to hang out with his best, cooler and not nerdy friend" I try but Barry wasn't taking it.

Curse his extra IQ points and use of common sense.

"Come on Sam, this is important. We're in the middle of something big. It'll revolutionize the world." He explains and though that sounds cool. It's nothing I haven't heard before. "You say that all the time. Yet you've never actually told me what it was since you started working there"

"That's because I can't tell you yet" Barry defends and I cross my arms, "but I'm your best friend!"

"I took an oath, sorry" he smiles simply, with a shrug.

"I won't tell anyone" I whine and this time he shakes his head, a grin evident on his face, obviously enjoying my suffering, "Oath"

Which I personally didn't enjoy. Responding with a "dammit, fine" as the last thing I say, before giving in. Though that's only for now. Since just because he's not telling me now, it doesn't mean I won't know about it ever. And I will find out what it is sooner or later.