The Outsider

By; CompulsiveLiar

I sighed, staring out the rain-streaked window of my bedroom. It was pouring outside, the night creating an even deeper shade of dark blue. Though it was fitting of my mood; the entire day was a flop. It merely seemed as if someone, somewhere, had it out for me. Reasons unknown, of course. Still, it made me a little downtrodden, a little downcast. Just 'down', period.

It was then that I decided to ready myself for bed, standing up from the corner of my bed and walking toward my dresser. I opened the second drawer, pulling out a pair of lemon flannel pajama shorts and a matching sunny tank top- something to brighten my mood, if though only slightly. I yanked off my long-sleeve t-shirt and light blue jeans and in their place pulled on my pajama choices. The cotton was soft against my smooth skin, and as I sat back down on the bed, I curled my arms around myself. The house was more than a little chilly, the middle of fall churning the chilly weather our way. Canada got pretty cold this time of year.

Even with my arms around myself, striving for body heat, I found my teeth chattering and a slight shiver traveling up my arms. Small, prickly goosebumps were left in its wake. With a sigh, I stood back up, pulled back the sheets of my bed, and wrapped myself inside. At first the sheets were cold, making my teeth chatter even more, but soon they took to my body heat and warmed up a bit.

"Elaina," the voice of my little sister came from the bed beside mine. "I'm cold."

With a light huff, I realized I was a little cold, too, even with the added heat the blankets atop me provided. "Don't whine about it," I told her. "Here, you can take my quilt." I ripped off the blanket on the very top of me and threw it at her.

Bailey scoffed, but wrapped herself in the blankets, nonetheless. I could tell she appreciated the extra warmth, and yet she didn't thank me for giving up my comfort.

A tank top and shorts was probably not the smartest thing I could have picked to wear to bed, I thought miserably, willing myself to get up from my barely-warm bed to change into something that covered more of my body, something that gave me a bit more heat for the long, cold night that was sure to be ahead of me. And yet, as much as I wanted to get up, to change my pajamas, I didn't want to risk the fact of returning to a cold bed once I had changed. The idea of cold sheets, even for a few short moments, didn't sound appealing to me in the slightest.

Instead, I decided to close my eyes and focus on something warm inside my mind. I thought of the morning's hot sun, I thought of towels just out of the dryer, I thought of grilled cheese right off the stove. And I thought of Conor, my best friend since elementary school. He might have been the warmest of all my memories, because one hug from him made my insides feel like they were on fire.

I pretended that, as I lay in my bed on that cold and rainy night, he was lying right beside me, holding me in his arms and making my insides alight with an invisible flame that made a smile creep up onto my face and stay there until he was gone.

And then I realized he actually was gone, except for in my memories. The pretending I had done for minutes on end was nothing more than the likes of a child's imaginary friend. The fire that had heated me was instantly put out with a douse of ice water, and I began to shiver again. The heat I had pretended to be real was nothing more than imagination, and the only thing that was real in this situation was the chill in the air.

The intensifying ice that was hidden within the air kept me up for hours, not easing up on me even in sleep. The cold that wafted through the bedroom was apparent to me subconsciously, making my dreams frosted with icicles and crystals that pelted my bare skin like hail.

My dreams were of snowstorms, thrashing winds filled with snowflakes the size of my fist pelting me and only me. I shivered, both in my mind and in reality. The coldness was both real and surreal at the same time, and it soon became difficult to tell the two apart. Without noticing it, I brought the covers around me tighter, though I suppose it didn't make much of a difference.

I awoke, the same dark blue of the night surrounding me as had been a few hours earlier. Tiredly, I rolled over onto my side to examine the time flashing on my alarm clock. It was extremely late, or extremely early, it depends on how you look at it. Three thirty-seven in the morning. A yawn pryed itself from my lips, and I shuddered.

Turn on the heater, I thought tiredly, my thought not really making any sense. Our heater had broken yesterday, and the guys who fixed things like that were supposed to come today; instead, they made a call at the last minute, saying they couldn't make it today, but would try and get over here to fix it tomorrow. It's so cold, I want hot, not cold. No cold, just hot, so tired, so cold. Like I said, nothing was really clicking with my brain, as it was three thirty-seven in the a.m. But I did know for a fact that my teeth were chattering, and by the sounds of them, it didn't seem like they'd be stopping anytime soon.

I remember I kept thinking, in that way I did when I was too tired to think clearly, I wish Conor was here. He is warm, he makes me warm. But then, after I had chanted that silently a few times, I went back to thinking about how utterly freezing it was.

That went on for quite a while. As soon as I woke up, I found it even more difficult to fall back asleep. I tossed and turned, finding every position just as uncomfortable as the next, and the position before that as well. It was almost as if the night was set on me not getting any rest so that in the morning, when I had to take Bailey to her soccer game- get her ready and leave by eight o'clock on the dot- I would be swerving in and out through the lanes of traffic because I was too tired to keep my eyes open for longer than a few seconds.

There was no telling when I decided that I wasn't going to go back to sleep, that I would have to try and ease my mind so that I could at least be a bit rested in the morning. Maybe it was when I realized that it was still raining, continuing on from the night before. I usually didn't pay attention to the weather, when it rained and when it didn't, but it occurred to me completely out of the blue as I lay shivering in my bed during the wee hours of the morning.

I blinked as a bright spark of light filled the room as a loud crashing sounded, blending in with the rain lashing out at the window pane and the frosty air. The wind was loud; I could hear it through the walls of our home. It echoed through the hallways and swept over my sister's soundless, sleeping form.

Bailey was huddled in my quilt and a few other blankets she managed to conjure up for the night. Though, unlike me, she was motionless and silent; her teeth didn't make clattering noises as they chattered against each other, and her shoulders weren't shaking from the shivers that would occasionally travel up one's spine. She looked utterly peaceful, and a small, elusive smile crossed my face for reasons I couldn't explain at the time.

Rolling on to my back, I stared up at the ceiling of my room. It was white, a blank canvas, and yet in the darkness of night it appeared to be a shade of navy. My eyelids were heavy, but they didn't close. I didn't know why, as I was so devastatingly tired and worn out. My whole body felt cold and restless, and there wasn't anything I could do to help either of those facts from remaining.

The sudden, sharp sound of the front door closing was shocking and unsuspected, startling me and forcing my spine to snap into a stiff position. My eyes, once heavy, were now weightless as they widened. My chattering teeth bit down on my lip, the entire room now filled with silence and nothing more. And the only sound heard in the quiet of nightfall was the small patting of footsteps down the hallway outside of my room.

Who is that? my mind wondered, still not fully awake, though not asleep, either.

The footsteps stopped right outside the door to my bedroom, and my head turned toward the silence. And then, the slow creaking of the door opening, and the unintentional clack of the handle snapping into place with the doorframe.

A tall dark figure took a few steps toward my bed. "Hello?" they whispered.

"Hello?" I whispered back.

"You awake, Elaina?"

A spark flashed in my mind, soon followed by a clash of thunder outside the house, which rattled the space between me and the figure now standing in my room.

"Conor?" I asked.

"Yeah."

I ripped back the covers, and jumped out of bed. I took four quick steps toward him and stared up to meet his eyes, which would not have been visible had it not been for my eyes and their previously adjusted status to the darkness. A smile spread onto his lips as I wrapped my arms around him. He did the same, and immediately I could tell the difference between my frozen bed and the warm arms that Conor provided for me. I buried my head into his chest, and he laughed silently, just once.

"Jesus, Elaina, you're cold," he said, rubbing his hands up and down my arms, trying to heat them up. "It's chilly in here to begin with, and- hey, why are you wearing a tank top and shorts? Are you crazy?"

I didn't speak, only nodded and breathed in deeply. I didn't have time to think about the fact that I should be embarrassed, wearing only a tank top and shorts- my pajamas- in front of Conor. The thought managed to have slipped my mind.

He sighed, resting his head on top of mine. "Did I wake you up?"

"No," I murmured, "I was already up. Have been since three thirty-seven this morning."

He smirked, as I could hear it in his voice. "Doing what?"

"Being cold. I couldn't fall asleep."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Hey, here," he started, breaking the hug to unzip his hoodie and slip it off, "put this on, it's warm." He handed it to me, and I took it gladly.

"Thanks. Lucky you were here, I guess, or I would still be freezing." I thought for a moment, then continued. "By the way, why are you here? Did you just happen to think that I might be a little cold, so you stopped by to provide your heating services?"

He laughed twice this time. "Nah, your brother called last night, wanted to know if I wanted to hang out today. I just came over a little early, couldn't sleep myself. He's still asleep right now, though, so I came in here to see what was up."

I frowned. "Oh." Jason, my brother, was Conor's friend, too, though they weren't nearly as close as we were. Still, they got along and hung out quite a bit. "What time is it right now, exactly?"

"A little after six, why?"

I sighed, closing my eyes while leaning back into my friend's chest. "I am pooped."

"You must be, staying up all night."

"I know, and I have to get up in an hour to take a shower, and then I have to get Bailey up and take her to her soccer game. And I have to accomplish this all in time to leave by eight. That is not nearly enough time..." An unwanted yawn escaped my lips. "I am so tired..."

He took my hand and led me toward my empty bed. He motioned with his empty hand to lay down in it, and I did as I was told. The sheets felt so much warmer now that I had Conor's warm hoodie on. "Try and go back to bed, I'll wake you up when it's time to go."

I yawned once more. "Thank you." My eyes finally closed. "Goodnight."

"Night," he repeated, and pulled the covers over me. "Now sleep."

The sleep he commanded me to find came easier with the knowledge of his presence beside my bed. The rain began to soothe; not stopping, exactly, but the beginning of the end. Finally, so it seemed. Quickly I succumbed to the unconsciousness that called me, letting it overtake me and claim my body as its own.

The process of sleeping came and went faster than I had expected. I fell asleep and then, just as soon as I had gone under, the soft touch of Conor nudging me awake pulled me back out and hurled me out of the comforts of my bed. Or, rather, the comforts of Conor's hoodie. It was still warm, even after the hour I had been wearing it, and was far more comforting than the bed.

"Come on, you have to wake up," his voice murmured. "Bailey's already up, now it's your turn."

I groaned. "Did you get her up?"

"No, your mom did."

"And what did she say when she found you sitting at the foot of my bed?"

He laughed, now loudly as it was allowed since Bailey had awakened. "She actually thanked me. Said you looked sickly cold. Before I came over. But, no, if you hadn't have been freezing, if I hadn't've helped with that, I might have gotten yelled at. I could tell she was a little weirded out that I was in here with you at six in the morning instead of with Jason."

I nodded, though the movement was not exaggerated in the least. My eyes opened. "Hey, did it finally stop raining?"

He smiled at me, seeing my eyes open. "Yeah; the skies are clear, so Bailey's soccer game is still a go."

I closed my eyes once more, and fixed my head so that it was face down on the pillow. A sigh was muffled in the process, though was still perceived. Conor rubbed his palm up and down on my back, soothing my inexplicably tired mood quite well.

"Do I have to take her?" I asked miserably.

He frowned. "Yeah, Jason's still asleep and your mom is at work until noon, she just left a few minutes ago."

"Why can't Jason get his fat ass up and drive Bailey to her game? Why do I always have to do Mom's dirty work?"

"Because she asked you to," he said simply.

I groaned, low and aggravatedly. Not finding anything else to say to help my situation, I pryed myself up from the bed and, with a little help from Conor, found my way into the bathroom.

He sat me down on the toilet seat and began to run the water for the shower. Even before I got in, I could feel the heat resonating throughout the room. A smile sprang upon my lips, and I huddled deeper into Conor's jacket.

"Okay, time to take a shower," he said, pulling the lever to activate the shower head. The constant chug of the water thrashing against the bottom of the tub soon turned into a light, yet equally constant pattering of thin streams. "It's all ready to go, now all you have to do is want to get up."

"There lays the problem," I stated. "I don't want to get up."

"Well, that's too bad for you, because you're going." Conor's footsteps were quiet as they walked past me and out of the bathroom. The door shut with a sharp click, and my eyes opened slightly.

My voice strained, "Conor!"

The door opened immediately. "Yeah?"

"Will you go with me to the soccer game?"

He thought a moment, then smiled. "I don't know if Jason is going to like that. I'm supposed to be hanging out with him today. You know how he gets about that kind of stuff."

"Yeah, the kind of stuff like him not having enought of his own friends," I muttered, then continued in a louder tone, "Well, too bad, it's his loss; he decided to sleep in."

Conor's smile widened. "Just take your shower, be ready in a half hour."

I nodded, turning around with a smile; when it was with Conor, I always got my way. He just didn't have a stiff enough hand on me, letting me have every little thing I wanted. Whenever I asked him for favors, it was as if he couldn't say no; it was as if, no matter how much his mind told him he couldn't keep bending over backwards for me, he didn't listen. And so, in return for everything he did for me, I did the exact same for him. No exceptions.

An inquisitive cough came from behind me, just as I had begun to pull up the very bottom of my tank top. I dropped the hem and turned around, staring back at Conor.

"Something you wanted?" I joked with an invisible smirk.

His smirk was not so easily hidden. "Yeah. We're taking my car."