I had plenty of weird dreams that night, all of them involving me and Abby doing weird stuff. I bme the events before we got into bed, the way we were sleeping and puberty for them.

  I woke up a few times, jolted by a kiss or some touch she’d give me in the dream, confused and wondering if we did any of that. Remembering it was me one of the involved people, I’d put that away and go back to sleep.

  Even so, I’d say I slept surprisingly well. The way she was peacefully sleeping by me had a calming effect, I found out. Sometime during the night, somehow, my arm got under her neck, making it impossible for me to move, but even so, I found it kinda pleasant.

  I was thinking back on all that when I woke up in the morning. I was zing in bed and slowly noticed the feeling of someone stroking my hair. My pillow was also feeling softer and more comfortable than usual.

  Opening my eyes, I saw a pair of legs under my head.

  “Hehe, you’re finally awake. Hi there, sleepy head,” Abby chimed.

  She was sitting with her back against the headboard, patting my head as I used her p as a pillow.

  I staggered a greeting and asked her how long we had been like this.

  “Hmm… for about an hour? I was going to the bathroom before you grabbed me.”

  “Oh… sorry about that.”

  “Don’t worry, it was a funny reaction. But do you think you can let me go now? My bdder is at its limit.”

  I got my head off her p and she jumped off the bed, walking a bit cross legged. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she told me with gritted teeth.

  I called out to her, noticing she was forgetting something very important.

  “Don’t worry Violet. We can go back to me petting your head when I’m—”

  “That’s not it, you idiot!” I cut her off the moment she twisted the doorknob, my body raised out of bed. “Put on some clothes! My dad might be awake and you’re still only in your panties!”

  When she realized what she had almost done, her face went a colour of red I never imagined she could produce. I did see her blush yesterday, but this was worlds beyond. I couldn’t help but ugh as she stumbled to wear her clothes and leave the room. It felt very refreshing to see the tables turned.

  Now that she left, I looked at the clock. It appeared to be a quarter past seven to my blurry vision.

  “Guess I’ll just snooze a bit longer.”

  I was woken up some time ter. I felt like some mere seconds had passed since I had shut my eyes. I woke up because I felt the bed shift under Abby’s weight. Although I still hadn’t opened my eyes, I knew she was sitting on the verge. It felt strange that she was sitting there immobile.

  Is she watching me sleep?

  I opened my eyes, curious. She was sitting with her arms crossed over her body, each hand grabbing the bottom of her shirt. She was looking at me with a slight blush. Was she now embarrassed to take it off after our first exchange in the morning?

  “It’s ok,” I said, more worried about her comfort than mine.

  “T-then I’ll take you up on that.”

  With that, she took it off and got herself under the sheet in a quick motion, her face towards mine. Yup, she was feeling embarrassed.

  “It would have been bad if your parents saw me like that.”

  Yeah, I don’t know how dad would have reacted. About that, she joked. Maybe he’d think she was a perverted girl trying to seduce him, Abby chirped, and hearing no mention about my mum, she asked about her.

  “…She passed away when I was five.”

  She got sorrowful after hearing that and either gave me her condolences or simply said sorry for bringing up sad memories.

  It was ok, I told her. It had been ten years ago after all.

  “…Could that be why you hugged me when I tried to leave the bed?” she asked, a note of mischievous intent in her voice.

  Memories of my dream assaulted my head, making me blush violently. Were they the reason why I grabbed her? Some questions started popping up in my mind. A question in particur was bothering me. I was afraid of making it, but even more so of not knowing the answer.

  “Maybe. Say, Abby?” I started, fearful of asking.

  “Yes Violet?”

  “Did I… Did I do anything… weird during… the… the night?”

  “I’m a heavy sleeper so I can’t tell. Although, judging by that hour you were curled up on me, I’d say you are a very peaceful sleeper.”

  “I-I see,” I said relieved.

  “…You know, I can’t remember when was the st time I slept this well.”

  I frowned, thinking that was odd. It was awfully hot in bed with us two in it, the springs jamming us and barely any space for us to move.

  “Yeah, but… do you promise not to ugh or get mad?”

  Of course I promised her that, Abby was looking like she had something very personal and important to say. “I erm… I feel… safe… I feel safe when we hug and… I feel safe lying in bed with you. And… please, don’t get mad when I tell you this but… your smell, it… calms me… I don’t know why, but… it does.”

  I was feeling like tearing up a bit after such a heartfelt confession. Learning that I had such an effect on her was something a bit scary to tell you the truth, but… I didn’t hate it. In fact, it made me a bit happy.

  “Wanna go back to it?” she suggested, jokingly. “To snuggling, that is.”

  “Not with you topless,” I quipped to her bashfully.

  “If that’s the case, you put a shirt on too.”

  But I had a shirt on. Didn’t I?

  “What?!” I shouted.

  I hid my head under the sheet as I realized that sometime during the night, I must have had removed my top without noticing and just a while ago, I had again exposed my bare chest to her.

  “Are we going to have a repeat of yesterday’s discussion?”

  “That was different,” I meekly answered.

  “How so?”

  “We were going to get dressed afterwards, that’s how!”

  “Yeah, I suppose you are right.”

  We stayed quiet for some time. Having calmed down during that break, I pulled my head out.

  “Is this really normal for friends to do?” I asked.

  Her impish face turned serious and she curled up her body a bit.

  “Hmm… I haven’t had a real friend for a while, but even so, I can’t say it is. But each retionship has its own ways of working. It really depends on how people feel comfortable to act around others. I don’t think I could act like this with anyone but you, for example. Pfft, hehe, besides… I wouldn’t call a socially awkward, self-conscious worrywart and a bubbly, happy go lucky who sees everything as a joke, normal,” she said in a very matter of fact manner. “I’m probably being more… inappropriate because it has been a while since I had a real friend to do this kind of stuff. At least, these are my thoughts on the matter.”

  She was way more than what she had described herself to be. The way she put it was just the mask she showed everyone else but that I was starting to get glimpses of what ys under. And her answer, even if honest, wasn’t any help to make me reach a conclusion.

  “I guess you are right. So… should we… do it?” I said a bit confused.

  She blushed when I asked her that. She now seemed a bit conflicted. It was as if she was having an argument with herself.

  “Another time, perhaps,” she finally spoke.

  ???

  When we finally got out of bed, it was already past eight. I was left alone in her room as she went ahead for a shower. Still sitting on the bed, I decided to take that time to try and calm down. Was it because I hadn’t done a sleep over since sixth grade that I was this nervous? Yeah, perhaps it was that.

  What I had dreamt about also didn’t help. I felt dirty dreaming about doing that to my new friend. Seriously, what would she say if she knew? She would be mad, right? Would I even bme her if she started hating me?

  No… it would be justified…

  Looking to the side of the bed where she had slept, I recalled earlier this morning. When she asked me if she did something weird during her sleep, I lied. She didn’t do anything that weird, mind you. When I was going to leave the bed to go to the toilet, she opened her eyes slightly, put her arm around my waist and gave me a kiss on the navel. I almost shouted at her but seeing Violet resting her head on my p and going back to sleep again, I chucked that up as something which wasn’t conscious. Did she perhaps had the same type of dream I had? No, of course not. She was, as her grandmother would say, a proper dy. I was the one with the dirty mind. Not that I would mind if she had.

  Wait, wouldn’t I? Hmm… I guess I wouldn’t. I mean, it’s not like we can decide what we dream about, right?

  But if so, would she really be mad if she knew about my dream? I wasn’t going to tell her anyway, so there was no point worrying about it.

  Is this how her mind works every day?

  That thought gave me a different appreciation of her attitude towards life.

  Getting tired of all that, I shifted my attention to her room.

  It was tiny. I imagined I couldn’t take more than eight steps—about four if you aren’t a shortcake like me—before hitting a wall. It also didn’t have that much furniture. The bed was on the far right corner of the room with a desk and chair on the opposite side. At the foot of the bed, there were the drawers which I had a look-see yesterday. It was tiny, but I really liked it here.

  Thinking about what I saw in her drawers, all the clothes it had, from some shirts to underwear, they were all… I’ll not call them pin, so I’ll just call them normal. But what about the closet that stood on the left side of the desk?

  I went to have a look.

  What? It’s just this?

  Hanging inside were all her clothes. And I mean all of them. Just about a dozen. From left to right there were summer, winter, and midseason clothes, and about four school uniforms and five white shirts. Taking from the equation the uniforms, they were all very normal looking. Nothing a bit fshy or girly. The dress I gave her and the sandals she bought to match showed a lot of promise, but nothing else did.

  “As soon as we are done eating, I’m taking that girl shopping.”

  The door clicked and she came inside while I pretended I hadn’t been snooping around.

  Her hair was still wet and she only had a towel wrapped around her. Very erotic, I must say.

  So, she is fine with that?

  The way she was flushed proved otherwise.

  “I forgot some clothes,” she mumbled.

  She had forgotten all the clothes, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. At least not now. I had other ideas, so I kept quiet about it and approached her. Since she had just gotten out of the shower, her shower gel scent was more intense than when she arrived at school. I didn’t know what it was exactly, but it was a nice smell. It was very soothing.

  “Abby, please… not right now,” Violet pleaded as she pulled her body away.

  Not right now, huh?

  Did that mean she was getting used to hugging? Perhaps even starting to like it? Those possibilities made me feel a bit giddy.

  I assured Violet I wasn’t looking to hug her, only to have a sniff.

  She didn’t like that either, as to be expected, blushing even further and asking me why.

  “Why? Because you smell nice.”

  She pouted, unsatisfied by my answer. So cute.

  Would she be ok if I asked her if I could use her shower gel today? It was worth a try.

  “Yeah, I guess. Did you forget yours?”

  Nope, I had brought them in my bag, as I pointed out for her, the fsks sitting on her drawer.

  “Then… why?”

  Why?

  I pondered about how to answer. Simply saying it was because I liked the smell would feel like we were talking in circles and I wanted to try to give Violet a proper answer that would satisfy her.

  So, why was it? Because it was her smell? While that would be a good answer, it wouldn’t satisfy Violet, and her head could explode. Mine too for that matter. Even I had stuff I couldn’t say out loud. Anyway, it wasn’t that I didn’t like the smell of mine. It had a nice scent.

  I used the same stuff my mum did, I remembered. Was that it? Was it that, somewhere in my subconscious, smelling like her made me remember how she made me feel inadequate? Was it because with Violet’s smell I felt calm and associated it with fun times? Now, I still loved mother, but we weren’t that close. I liked Violet’s smell better, no doubt. That didn’t feel like it was actually it, but that was what I told her.

  I sounded a bit sad as I spoke. I tried very hard not to, but that was how it came out.

  Also, I like your smell better!?

  “…I see…” she said softly. It almost sounded a bit pained. “Ok. You can use mine.”

  I felt like an idiot. She had just told me an hour or so before she had lost her mother, and here I was making compints about mine.

  “Could you leave?” she spoke meekly. “I want to get dressed and I can’t do it with you here.”

  “Right, be seeing you,” I said, not sure why I said it as if I was going home or something.

  Her bathroom was another pce I was adoring.

  It was under the stairs that led to her father’s room, so there wasn’t much space. Half of the ceiling was snted, so if you were tall, there was a chance you could hit your head standing up from the toilet. Not me though, there was an open palm’s length of space between my head and the ceiling. To the left of it when you walked inside was the washing machine, and to the right were the bidet, the sink to wash your hands with a small cabinet under it and a shower, all in that order, and all very small. Maybe it was too small, but I had to walk three steps in mine to go from one bathroom appliance to the other. It was a bit of a pity she didn’t have a bathtub like mine, though. Maybe one of these days my parents would go on a business trip for a few days and I could get her to stay at my pce one night to experience an immersion bath with salts for at least once in her life.

  I got in the shower and picked the bottle which seemed to have been used the most recently and gave it a whiff.

  Yup, it’s hers.

  Lavender and lemongrass. It wasn’t of any high brand, but it was equally as nice. And I couldn’t tell why I was doing it, but I just hoped no one couldn’t hear me giggle over the sound of running water.