It’s about midnight, maybe later. The door to my room creaks open and I swear to god if this is what I think it is I might throw a fit.
Are you kidding me.
There’s tugging on the sheets now.
“Bro. Bro. Bro.”
“What,” I manage to mumble, facing the opposite direction.
“I can’t sleep.”
“You’re 13 years old, god damn. Too old to be pulling this kind of bs.” I guess I’m not as tired as I thought.
“I can’t sleep, let me lay with you.”
“Fine. But don’t hog the covers.”
“And no snoring.”
He’s already passed out, head resting on my chest. It’s like he’s a kid again. Sometimes I wonder about his future when he does stuff like this. I wanna give him a normal future, a normal past. I wanna give him a life he deserves. Houston is too much of a hell-hole and sometimes I wish I could just send him somewhere else. He’s just a kid. He doesn’t deserve this isolation. He doesn’t understand.
It’s about midnight, maybe later. Dave’s completely knocked out and it’s just another sleepless night for me. I guess it’s all worth it.