Sometime after midnight, Court opened his eyes, suddenly awake. He felt the familiar weight of Ronnie’s body pressed against his back, an arm draped over his waist, legs entangled with his. He held his breath, listening with every fiber of his being, but the world around them was as silent as it was dark. No crickets, no cicadas, not even a breeze through the leaves.
What time was it?
He pulled back his sleeping bag and glanced down. He lay on his side, Ronnie’s left arm draped over him—the arm on which Ronnie wore a watch. Court reached down, found his friend’s wrist, and turned it until he found the tiny button on the side that illuminated the face.
In the faint green glow, he could read 3:05 in digital letters. Way too early to be up. If he didn’t get back to sleep, he’d be exhausted
