*Knock knock*
Status update: 3 a.m. central time,
For God's sakes it was almost three in the morning, and a school night for that matter, who could it possibly be? Stanford crustily opened his left eye then his right eye as the knocking grew a tad louder. He stared at the cracked ceiling and began to shift his joints. There was drool running down his chin and onto his neck. He wiped his face from top to bottom with his large hands and felt his nose flop a little. He waited to see if they'd left.
*Knock knock a little louder*
Apparently not. Stanford got himself out of bed in his large t-shirt and laggy plaid pants reaching for his glasses that were nestled on his bedside table.
"Sakes alive," He grunted to himself. This had better be good, he had a midterm paper to write in Psychology first thing in the morning. In the dark he tripped over his small living room fold out coffee table and cursed under his breath rubbing his foot. He muttered and grouchily brushed himself off.
*Knock knock again*
He was beginning to lose his patience with this person, whoever had the guts to show up unannounced at three in the morning…
"Ford?" He heard a small, mousey voice on the other side of the door. It was Tilly. He felt his insides get all soupy and sloshed around like his organs had melted. He fixed his hair, regained his posture and opened the door to see Tilly with a tear stained face, hair in disarray and a bump on her head. He ushered her in and held her small hands in his large ones.
"Tilly," He said kissing her cheek. He pulled away slowly, it was still moist. She had been crying. "What's going on…" He began to ask.
"I had another nightmare." She said fighting back more tears. "They're getting worse every night, Ford and I cant sleep or eat and I get confused," She began to release the water works as her eyes grew red and puffy. "I wake up in a fever and I'm always sweating." She said standing in the doorway. "They're so real, Ford." He quickly ushered her into his dorm, holding her hand. He closed the door and looked out to make sure no one had followed her.
"Hey," He said bringing her head to his chest. "Shh," He mused. "It's okay," He sang. She gripped to his collar with all her strength but Ford didn't care. "I'm glad you came and told me," He said.
"The timing is atrocious, I know." She cried into his shirt. "I fell out of my bunk and hit my head on my dresser. Like a damn twelve year old." She said.
"Nonsense," Ford hummed swaying her back and forth gently. "
"It's him, Ford." She trembled in his large arms as he stoked her hair long, large hair. Her words sent chills down his spine. "The one eyed beast. He keeps reaching for my skirt and dragging me away and I try to run honest to God," She said frantically explaining. "He just tells me these haunting lies and he tells me he's always watching me. I run and run and try to hide," She said quieter. "But he always finds me." She fell silent.
"You sound like you're confessing to an affair," Ford chuckled lightly.
"I feel violated. I feel pain when I wake up, my panties are soaking wet. For god's sake, I have to change my sheets every night and I think the other students on the first floor are getting mad at me for using the dryer so late at night… It just feels so real…" She said hiccuping.
"As long as I'm here," He said lifting her pointed chin. "You're safe." He said. She looked down.
"I hate feeling helpless," She said wiping her eyes. "Feeling like I can't take care of myself. But in the dreamscape, I might as well be a plate of cheese I can't fucking control anything." She said.
"I used to have dreams like those too," He said holding her shoulders. "Only it was bears, gnomes, unicorns with duck beaks and ghosts." He explained. "Terrible, wet my bed every night with a wet bed. But my brother Stanley would never make fun of me for it. In fact one night," He began to chuckle. "Stanley built a fort around our bonks and we dressed like pirates so I wouldn't be afraid." He laughed and quickly frowned again clearing his throat. "Anyway the point is, they're just dreams, Tilly. And you're safe. Nothing can hurt you in your own head." Tilly smiled at him and didn't stop. It was making Ford uncomfortable. "What?" He said defensively.
"You've never opened up to me like that before," She said kindly. "You never talk bout your family." She said. Ford felt a burning in his stomach.
"For good reason," He said dissuasively. "I try not to dwell on the past; just look where it's gotten me." He said.
"Do you want me to make you some tea?" Ford gestured towards the tiny kitchen. Tilly's face lit up a bit, almost as if two small dumbbells had been taken off her shoulders.
"Tea sounds delightful." She said looking relieved.
Ford held her hand as he walked her to the kitchen when she sat on the counter her legs dangling off the edge like noodles. Tilly closed her eyes for a second, letting her head dangle. She was wearing a soft, long pink nightgown and bare feet. Ford gazed at her small stature, and caught him off guard when she opened her eyes. He quickly looked away and blushed. Ford brewed up some of his special green tea that he only made on special occasions. Tilly sunk her back against the cabinet and watched Ford stir in the pot on the heated stove. She blinked and met his glance.
"What?" He asked pointedly.
"How did I ever get so lucky to have a friend like you?" She said. Friend… Ford shrugged.
"Fate works in mysterious ways, I suppose." He said stirring. She was beautiful, from the top of her fluffy blonde hair to her nimble and painted toes.
"I'm sorry to keep you up so late, Ford." She said. Ford shook his head.
"No matter. For you? Anything." He said with a kind smile, pouring the tea into a yellow mug. "Come on, I'll make you a pallet on the couch." He said. He began to grab pillows and blankets from his coat closet. "The springs in the couch are deplorable and it's got a few stains but," He said rubbing the back of his neck.
"Ford," Tilly said holding up her hand. "It's perfect. Thank you." She said. "I just don't want to be alone tonight…" She said rubbing her arms. Ford could've scooped her up in his arms right there, he wanted to make everything better. All he could muster in her presence was a simple, "Okay,". Oh how stupid and ignorant he felt in that moment. He threw her the pillow and she caught it perfectly in one arm and the blankets in the other. She bent down to tuck in the blankets to the couch creases and caught Ford starring. He quickly looked away, blushing furiously. "Well you know where to find me," He stuttered pointing to his bed the corner. Tilly chuckled lightly. Ford blushed adjusting his glasses. He could've sworn there was something else hanging in the air in that one moment that they didn't break eye contact.
"Goodnight Tilly," Ford said.
"Goodnight, Ford." She said with her hand on her elbow as if she realized she was in nothing but a nightgown with long pink sleeves. She made her way to the couch and slipped under the blankets and curled up into a small ball. Ford sighed and made his way to his bed and plopped down, forgetting how tired he had been. Tilly Carter was asleep on his couch, holy mother of God.
An hour passed and Ford was still wide awake in his bed. He was starring at the ceiling trying to avoid the fact that the potential love of his life was asleep on his couch. Friend? What did that mean? He felt the words run in the pit of his stomach like a bad bellyache. He passed chemistry with flying colors, aced pre calculous and college algebra in a semester and whizzed through physics like a bird. He could figure the most complicated and difficult of problems… but he couldn't figure out this girl. He almost jumped when Tilly's sweet and kind voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Couldn't sleep—" She began.
"Me either," Ford finished. It was now or never. He flipped the covers over and scooted over towards the wall to make room.
She starred at the open spot for a long while and it made Ford uncomfortable and question his actions. Slowly, she stepped into the bed and nestled down and back up against his chest. She was warm and her head perfectly fit the crook of his neck. He played the covers over her shoulder and wrapped his arm around her. She smelled like honey and milk, like every sweet memory he'd ever made. He turned over on his back and stretched his arm behind his head and Tilly slowly reached her hand on his stomach. He played with her hair and held every tousled curl on her head until he saw her eyes had finally closed. She looked peaceful, happy even. Suddenly, time and every other single problem in Ford's world seemed completely insignificant compared to the glorious moment he was living.