The summer night air is suffocating.

My phone screen is too bright and my head hurts, even if I’m the only one that stayed sober. They finally all decided to sleep two hours ago, but I've been turning and turning on the hard ground since. I look to my left only to find that Rachie is sound asleep. A few others are laying on their blankets, covering a good part of the floor around me. 

It’s so frustrating that no matter how hard I try my eyes are wide open, stuck with thoughts about Rachel and Sarah and everything. The little voice in my head won’t shut up, and my slightly sweaty forehead doesn’t help. I roll to my right as I push away my thin blanket, feeling a little sick. I rearrange my pillow a few times before I finally decide that my efforts to sleep are useless. I grab my glasses and get up.

Trying not to make any noise or to walk on anyone’s limbs, I quietly make my way to Sarah’s bookcase. I squint my eyes to read the book titles in the dark, trying not to get my phone’s flashlight into anyone’s eyes. The bottom shelf is filled with engineering textbooks, but the rest of the bookcase is overfilled with books of all kinds. The only organised section seems to contain some dark fantasy, detective stories and classics.

Out of all the neatly cared for books, one of them catches my attention. The edges are white as if the book had been carried a lot, and the pages have lost their initial compressed state. I can't make the title out in the dark, but I still grab it before leaving the room. I sit on the floor right outside the door and I begin to read. 

***

I'm so absorbed by the pages that I don't hear Sarah coming until she sits next to me. I flip the book on my lap. "Did I wake you up?", I ask.

She smiles. "Doesn't matter, I'm glad you did."

I look down to my hands, unable to retain a small smile. I’m also glad you’re here.

She peaks at the novel I’m holding, and her short curls fall down to her face. She runs a hand through them. “Out of all the books, you picked my favorite. You seriously have no idea how many times I read that!”, she exclaims, her eyes glowing through her glasses.

“But really, you read Stephen King when you can’t sleep? You’re so weird!”

I finally look at her, and somehow, in the dimly lit corridor, I find her to be incredibly cute. I try to avert her eyes, but for reasons unknown they’re so bright they catch me right back. I have never seen eyes like that, the exact golden color maple leaves take every autumn. 

And she’s so close, every nerve of my body screams that I normally should feel uncomfortable. I shiver, chasing the feeling away. Instead of the witty answer I wish my brain could provide me with, all that comes out of my mouth is a small affirming sound.

She pulls her head back against the wall, looking up to the ceiling. I’m relieved about not having to look at her in the eyes, but I still slouch in a bit more toward her, closing my eyes. I can hear her breath, and I naturally synchronise mine with hers. 

“You’re really different from what Rachel told me”, Sarah finally says, breaking the silence.

I smile at the ground, fidgeting with my fingers. Somehow, I know exactly what she means. “I’m not comfortable with people I don’t know. There’s the way I act around Rachie and there’s the way I act around new people. I guess that’s why Rachie is so special to me? I don’t know, maybe that’s why I don’t want things to change…”

I’m once again rambling about Rachel. Sarah is right here, she’s cute, a book nerd, likes sciences, everything… Rachie even tried to match us, I’m sure of it! And I’m thinking about someone else. I abruptly stop mid-sentence, staring anywhere but at Sarah. Sarah looks right at me.

“You like her, don’t you?”

The question seems harmless, but I have never admitted it out loud. For the past few years, all I did was keeping it bottled up inside. I dare to peak at her, nodding. She catches one of my tears with her finger, asking me if it’s okay for her to hug me. My own lack of reaction takes me by surprise, and I lay my forehead down on her shoulder.

She releases me softly shortly after, starting a light conversation about the book I was reading. She tells me all about why she loves the book that I’m still holding so much, and her excitement allows me to forget I was crying only a few minutes ago.

I eventually learn about other books she thinks I will “absolutely love”, and she promises to let me borrow them before I leave. We even exchange numbers, and I think I just made a friend.

Eventually, the conversation dies down as she gradually stops answering. She seems about to fall asleep, so I pick up the book from where I was and softly begin to read out loud.

A few pages later, she falls asleep on my shoulder. I lay my head on top of hers, closing my eyes as the sun begins to rise.