I snorted.

“Okay, okay,” she countered, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “Text me at least and let me know Jaws hasn’t come and eaten you.”

And then I wondered why I was such a chicken. I couldn’t trip without my mom claiming I was “this close to breaking my leg.”

“With my luck, it’ll be Shamu that gets me, but okay, I’ll text you and let you know everything is okay,” I assured her.

“Love you, Squirt.”

“Love you, Mom. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she said before hanging up. It was already way past her usual bedtime.

I’d been surprised when my phone had started ringing at nearly midnight that Sunday night and I’d seen her name flashing across the screen. I’d been in bed on my computer after a long day at the beach that had given me a hint of a sunburn on my neck and shoulders. Des and Brittany had made dinner that night, some kind of wedding meatball soup that had been so delicious everyone had gone for seconds and thirds. Afterward, we’d all gathered around the television in the living room and watched the first Star Wars movie. Aaron had caught my smile while he’d loaded it into the DVD player, and I’d known he’d suggested it just for me. I knew it.

I had started falling asleep on the couch toward the end, and by the time the credits were rolling, I’d told everyone goodnight and headed downstairs while they all stayed up there doing… whatever it was they were doing.

But now, getting off the phone with my mom after a fifteen-minute-long conversation… I wasn’t so sleepy. I knew there was no way I could fall asleep. Besides, I’d taken a nap beneath the beach umbrella for an hour at some point after we’d eaten a lunch of sandwiches and chips, before heading back to the water for more.

For a few moments, I debated staying in my room, just fooling around on my computer since I didn’t have anything to work on, but decided I didn’t want to. Opening the door, I could hear the sound of a television on in one of the rooms, but couldn’t tell which one it was. The lights seemed to be off beneath the door of each one.

Up the stairs, I found all the lights on, even the television. Sitting in front of it, on the big couch with his feet propped up on the white wicker coffee table, with his arms crossed over his chest, was the only person in the house I would have really wanted to see. He must have heard someone coming up the stairs because his head rolled to the side, his expression calm and almost blank, and when it must have registered to him that it was me, a small smile covered his mouth.

He gestured me over with a tilt of his head.

I went. Of course I went. “Hi,” I said as I crossed in front of the coffee table and plopped down on the couch cushion beside him.

“Hey,” he whispered, his head lolled to the side to watch me as lazily as possible. “Woke up?”

“No, my mom called. I just got off the phone with her,” I explained.

“Everything all right?”

The fact that he’d worry something wasn’t right as the first thing, made my chest ache. “Yeah, she just wanted to make sure I was still alive,” I tried to joke, watching for a hint of a smile or some kind of pleased expression on his face.

And there it was. “You told her we’re treating you good?”

“Yes. I told her she’d like all of you a lot,” I said. “You can’t sleep?”

He shook his head, so lazy his neck didn’t even support it so he could do it properly. “I’m tired, but I can’t wind down.” Unlike me, he hadn’t napped on the beach. I hadn’t asked why he didn’t, but I could guess.

“You don’t want to lie in bed and see if that helps?”

He didn’t say anything for a second, and I was just starting to think he was going to ignore my question when he said, “That room makes me claustrophobic. I can sleep in there, but I can’t… hang out in there.”

I wasn’t sure I understood, but I smiled and nodded at him anyway. “Want me to grab you a pillow and a blanket so you can try to sleep out here?”

“No, Rubes, I’m all right,” he replied. “I’ll get over it. I just need to wait it out.”

“It’s not the same thing, but I have a hard time falling asleep most nights too. I can’t get out of my head, I think about all these things, and it keeps me up.”

Those brown eyes blinked lazily. “Like what?”

I hesitated and lifted my shoulders, remembering that this was him. “Everything. I nitpick little things I did or said throughout the day. I think about things I can’t control. I used to think about what I would do the day I quit my jobs, and if I could do my own business, or at least find something or someone with work that appreciates me more…. That’s how you know I was pretty much fantasizing. I know that would never happen. I just… I’d lie there and think about everything. Even other people’s problems. My dumb problems. It’s kind of lame.”

“That’s not lame.”

I shrugged.

Aaron watched me for a second before letting out a long breath, his eyes going up to the high ceiling of the living room before flicking back down to meet mine. “I think about stuff too.”

“Like what?” I asked, figuring the worst he’d give me was a vague answer.