Young Writers Society

[032, Friends]

Liberty sat on the edge of his bed and looked up at him, nervously.

"I like to read before I go to bed," she said, her voice small. "If…if that's all right with you."

"That's fine."

She scooted awkwardly to the side nearest the wall and slid her legs beneath the covers. Luke did the same, careful not to touch her in any way—it was her nervousness that was making him nervous. Normally, he wouldn't have considered her nightgown or the way her limbs made tiny pillars below the blankets. In the strange way his life usually turned out, however, what was worst was exactly what happened.

It had started the morning they had come to breakfast equally frazzled—she with a black eye, he with his clothes still damp from cold sweat. She ran from monsters in her sleep; he fought them.

It had been Adelais' fault.

Maybe if you slept together, you wouldn't be so afraid.

It had sounded fantastic at the time—like sleep without falling down or waking up in strange places or tossing until the covers made makeshift nooses about their necks. Together, however, they were conscientious virgins without hope for respite or for the comfortable sleep they so wished for.

Luke turned on his side, away from her. He could still feel the warmth emanating from her frame, creating a halo of heat he didn't think humanly possible. She turned the pages slowly, carefully, sometimes sighing as she read something particularly troubling or—Luke didn't want to consider this—particularly romantic.

The doorknob twisted.

Their hearts pounded in sync—it's the watchman. It's my mother.

It was Adelais.

"How are you this fine evening, my friends?"

Luke groaned. "What do you need, Adelais?"

"Only your love and affection, darling." He climbed into bed between Liberty and the wall. "It's drafty in my room again. I swear. Six hundred dollars a month—you'd think they'd keep it toasty."

Liberty laughed as he put his head on her stomach. Luke pretended not to hear them—pretended that he hadn't just been sexually bested by someone whose idea of a good time was polishing boots.

The doorknob twisted once more.

It was David.

"Mommy, I had a bad dream." He rubbed his eyes and crept next to Adelais. "I had a bad dream and you weren't in your room."

Liberty shifted closer to him, moving her legs so that they touched his, all of them creating a twisted mass of improper.

Luke was about to scream when the doorknob twisted for the last time.

"Am I…what is going on?" Four pairs of eyes met Upton's.

"My bedroom has transformed into some kind of brothel," Luke muttered, and pulled a pillow over his head as Upton sat on the edge, his hands carefully folded into his lap. "Against my will, naturally."

The bed creaked with their combined weight.

Liberty closed her book and reached over Luke to pinch out the candle. All was quiet but for breath—something that Luke could appreciate immensely. It felt nice.

It felt like family.

but in the strange way his life usually turned out, what was worst was exactly what happened.

I think I understand this--I'm not sure. But it is strange, and you might want to rewrite it. Perhaps make it its own sentence.

It had started the morning they had come to breakfast equally frazzled

I don't like this because it makes it sound as though they're only come to breakfast once in their whole lives--I'm not sure what words give it that feel. Also the "equally frazzled" part works but it is kind of nasty right there, I'm not sure why. It's like it makes the phrase longer than it should be. Oh, I see it now. Perhaps you can say "that morning" instead of "the morning"? And add the word "when" in there after morning. Perhaps I'm being weird?

She ran from monsters in her sleep; he fought them [s]off[/s].

the covers made makeshift nooses about their necks.

I love, no, adore the alliteration here.

by someone whose idea of a good time was polishing boots.

I love Addy.

Liberty shifted closer to him, moving her legs so that they touched his, all of them creating a twisted mass of improper.

I love the twisted mass of improper bit--but consider using an name rather than "he" in there somewhere, that way we know for sure who you mean.


This is so cute! It's real sweet to see something like that going on. Though, why on earth does Upton come in? I would really like to know. I mean, he is Upton. Does he willingly go into other peoples unclean rooms and sit on their unclean beds?