Groupie

It was a rare occurrence to get to sleep before three A.M. Sometimes I let insomnia take me and I stay awake until the sun crept up over my windowsill, drenching my room in a rich and inviting warm light that made me feel alive again. I felt like a zombie at night. All of the bad things came out at night. Werewolves, vampires, demons. Personal and spiritual.  Tonight was one of those nights when I let the idea of sleeping escape my grasp. The seconds ticked by on the clock painfully slow, and I was well aware of it when three A.M hit and I was still wide awake. I could lay staring at the ceiling aimlessly wishing that a new day would start it I could stop thinking about her because I'll be too busy doing other, more important things.  Stupid her.  Stupid f*****g her.  Georgia. Hardly a day when by when I didn't think about her. I'd be walking through the market with my mother and get a whiff of the peaches and remember her laughter as the store manager flirted with her.  "Sweet Georgia Peach," he teased even though he was married and she was only fourteen at the time. I'd walk past the old junkyard and the mechanics would ask me where Gorgeous Georgia was and I'd ignore them. They'd hurl insults at me, berating me for being unresponsive, but the truth was that for a few weeks after her sudden disappearance, I didn't even know.  And then a letter came in the mail addressed for me two months after she disappeared into thin air. A Polaroid picture of her sitting on a sofa next to the lead singer of her favorite band. Of our favorite band. She looked the happiest I've ever seen her, and I'd known her since we were both in kindergarten.  People move on to bigger and better things. She always dreamed of leaving this town. Seeing the big city. I'm lucky if I can even dream because she keeps me awake at night. My thoughts of the night Georgia left and the debris left from her hurricane swirl in my mind until I felt dizzy. The popcorn ceiling above my head seemed to shift and swell like crashing waves of the ocean I was unlikely to ever touch. I closed my eyes to find relief, and my body surprised me by allowing sleep to come.  The sweet escape of sleep was short lived. A rapid tapping on my window made my eyes snap open. My body felt cold with fear as I thought of what it could be at the window. Someone coming to rob and torture my family? Something similar had occurred a few years ago and my mother became vigilant about locking the doors and windows. What if it was an animal? Like a raccoon or a squirrel trying to chew a hole through the wall. I gave myself permission to look at the clock one final time. Half past 3. I'd only been asleep for less than five minutes. I mustered up enough courage to glance towards the window. It took a few second for my eyes to adjust, before I saw the outline of a face beyond the glass. Had I gotten any sleep in the last three days, I would have recognized the girl outside, seemingly drummed up by my constant wishing of her return. But I was running off of empty and my scattered brain screamed danger, throwing me off of the bed.  The moonlight that shone down from the heavy purple sky brightened Georgia's ash blonde hair. Her blue eyes looked nearly translucent behind the glass. All of her features existed on their own until they came together to form the girl who'd disappeared from our small town eight long months ago.  My feet were heavy on the cold floorboards as I rushed to the window. There were footprints in the freshly fallen snow behind my house from Georgia. Her breath made a milky cloud in the window before disappearing.  Without thinking I threw the window open. It creaked in protest but obeyed my command. A burst of cold air invited itself inside my room followed by Georgia. Her familiar vanilla smell has been replaced by something heavier and manlier. I was struggling to find anything familiar about her, as if the girl before me was a stranger and not my life long friend.  The silence between us was thick. Georgia's boots created a puddle of water on the hardwood floor I prayed wouldn't warp when it dried. She carried her whole body as if the weight of the universe rested in her chest. I supposed after eight months away things had changed her.  "Where were you?" I asked her, keeping at an awkward distance. Slowly, Georgie peeled off her coat and let it drop onto the floor. Her boots came next. "You didn't get my letter?" She said, squinting as if she was trying to remember the details about it. Of course I got the letter. It was in my sock drawer folded neatly, hidden between the balled up pairs of socks. Sometimes I'd take it out to read it again and remind myself of her absence. By sometimes I mean often.  "Yeah I did, but..." my voice trailed off. But where were you? I wanted to ask again.  Georgia wandered around my darkened room in her socks. She found the lamp and switched it on. She took in the posters o my wall, a couple from boy bands I'd gotten into during her absence and from books that I liked. My mother told me not to lose my sense of self, so I tried the best way I knew how.  "Nice to know things didn't change." Georgie said, ignoring the obvious differences. "Did they miss me in this podunk little town?"  "Miss you? You were on the f*****g milk cartoons for a couple weeks!" I hissed, trailing after her around the room. I felt like that girl again, pathetic and chasing after her heel like a dog that needed a cool drink. I halted myself by grabbing hold of the bedpost. "That's why I sent the letter!" She said, resigning her search and sitting down in the bed. It creaked under her weight.  "That didn't make it any better, Georgia," I mumbled. Georgia smiled at me for a few seconds, but it was as if she was smiling past me. Her blue eyes seemed to be searching for something over my shoulder, but when she found it, she crumbled. A wave of silent tears rolled down her cheeks and dropped onto her sweater.  "It was amazing," Georgie said, the smile returning to her face despite the tears. I inched closer to the bed, afraid to break her. I didn't know anything about her anymore it seemed. I didn't know how fragile she was. "It was so amazing until it wasn't." I creeped to the edge of the bed and sat down next to her. I didn't expect her to lay her head on my lap the way she did before. Crying over boys are lame, she always said. Unless it's with your best friend.  "Why don't you tell me what happened," I urged her.  "How much time do you have?" She asked jokingly. I glanced at the clock. 3:40 AM. "I've got some time."