The Art Of Sneezing

Hour 12

Hour twelve: 4 a.m. best friend diary.

"It is foooooour a.m." I tell Alexander's computer video camera. "This is Tond, I mean, Pom. Wait, no."

"Tooom Pooond Taaaaylor!"

"Correct!"

"And Moose, no, Mouse, is my best friend!"

"Correct!" I beam at the camera and change the background to fish. "Hahaha."

"Fish!"

While Tom tried to poke the fish, I inform the camera of our intent for this video. "This is our best friend agreement!"

Tom begins. "Rule numero, er, the first one: if aliens abduct one of us, the other MUST find a way to follow them."

I tilt my head at him as he changes the background to a space ship. "You're an idiot. Rule number two: if Tom suddenly gains super powers, I will be named his sidekick."

"Rule number three: if I turn into a zombie, Mouse cannot kill me."

"Rule number four: Tom cannot laugh at my sneezes. EVER."

"Number five: Mouse has to put up with my weirdness and awkwardness." My phone rings and I hold a finger up to Tom. He nods. "Number six . . ."

"Patrick?" I ask.

"Who's Patrick?" The soft voice is deep.

"I'm SpongeBob. I thought this was Patrick. You must have the wrong number." I pout even though the voice can't see me.

The voice laughs. "I don't think I have the wrong number, Mouse. Are you drunk?"

"I . . ."

"I thought we talked about this."

I freeze. "Derek?" I whisper.

"Hey, babe." He doesn't sound happy.

"You don't sound happy."

"How can a guy be happy when his girlfriend is drunk with another drunk man talking in the background."

My head is becoming clearer, but I feel a steady thump as well. "Derek, I'm sorry. I know we talked about it-"

"Did anything happen with that guy?"

"N-no, I-"

"How do you know?! YOU'RE DRUNK!"

I flinch, although I know he isn't here to . . . back up his words. "I just-" I feel a tear on my face.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I just don't want anything to happen to you." I flinch at the child term. I hate being called baby, but I'm used to it now.

I smile at my Derek, the one I prefer. "I know, Derek."

"I'll call you back soon, though. I forgot about the time difference. I'm - what? - one hour ahead? You don't get up at five like I do, much less four. Well, you are up - and drunk, might I add - but I'll let you go. Go drink some water and go to sleep. Don't foget to set some tablets out for the morning. Mix some fernet with Coca-Cola, it'll help with the hangover in the morning. Oh, and I have something I'm working on. I should get the news to you be next Monday. Don't forget about school tomorrow." He sighs. "I love you."

I grin. "I love you, too, Derek. I'll get the stuff for the morning. I miss you."

"Miss you, too, babe," he murmurs. "Good night."

"Good morning." I hum back.