I couldn't sleep that entire night with the weight of the article on my chest. I had written it to get all of my thoughts and feelings out of my head and heart, and then I turned the paper over to Isabel, who had to make sure that it caught people's attention one way or another. And that was what I thought I wanted too, but maybe Ryan was right. That wasn't me, even though it was my story.

I wasn't the type of person to manufacture drama that didn't need to be there for attention. Or, at least, I didn't think I was that person up until now.

And now, there was nothing I could do about it besides begging Isabel not to run the story. But I wasn't a beggar, and Isabel wasn't a listener.

You really embarrassed yourself now, Layla.

I glanced at the clock on my dresser. 3:12 in the morning. Mom was definitely asleep, and I didn't have the heart to wake her up with something as silly as my regret, but I wasn't really sure if anyone else would be willing to listen at such an unreasonable hour.

Brooke had school the next day (and she was probably still mad at me for throwing away NFL money in the first place), so she wouldn't be available either. And Isabel and I, despite our new alliance that I had sold my morals for, were not friends.

I got out my phone. That left me with only one option.

"You were right. I messed up," I texted Ryan before I could talk myself out of it. I meant every word in that

Three dots appeared on the screen, and a moment later, Ryan's response popped up. "What are you doing awake? Go to sleep. You have a long day of defending yourself ahead of you."

That was the least helpful thing he could have possibly said.

"I know that, but I'm not sleeping tonight. I feel so disgusted with myself," I texted back.

Ryan's response came quickly. "You said how you feel. What's disgusting about that?"

"Why did I have to make it public like that? That was my issue in the first place." I thought for a moment, then added another text. "I'm so sorry I woke you up. That was stupid of me."

"You hold everything in until you can't anymore, Layla. And the problem is when you let the pressure build, it just leads to a bigger explosion than it needs to be."

I rested my phone down on my chest and took in a deep breath. I knew that, but what else was I supposed to do? I had people who relied on me, and I didn't have time to release pressure. The last time I tried to blow off some steam, a girl ended up almost dying at that party.

"Don't be so hard on yourself. You were put in a bad spot, and that would take a toll on anyone. I just wish you wouldn't let yourself get to the point where you blow up," Ryan added. "I'm sorry if that was mean, but I think you need to hear it right now. I'm not trying to criticize you."

I sure hoped he wasn't, because he had the bad habit of talking too much and saying all the wrong things sometimes.

"I'm sorry I woke you up. Thank you," I replied.

I could practically hear him telling me that was exactly what he was talking about with the holding feelings in, but he either didn't have anything to add, or he had fallen back asleep as minutes passed by without a text back. And that was what I wanted. It was rude of me to bother him in the first place when he was the one who told me that I was being a complete disaster.

However, with Christmas on the horizon, maybe that would be a chance to throw myself into taking care of my mom and working on everything but school and the paper. That counted as self-care. Instead of spending almost all of my time in Madison, I would be home where I could always be there for her. That would be a huge weight off of my shoulders.

After taking a final tomorrow, I could finally go home for a while. That was the best way to keep myself going.

But before I could finally drift off to sleep with the added guilt of inconveniencing Ryan fresh in my mind, a faint tapping sound came from my door.

Please no.

"Layla? I seriously doubt that you're asleep, and I'm not trying to wake up everyone on your floor, so you better open the door if you don't want them to be mad at you," Ryan said from the other side of the door.

Of course.

I pulled on a robe over top of my pajamas, rubbed my eyes to wake them up a little bit, and opened up the door for him.

"Why are you here?" I whispered and moved aside for him to come inside.

"Layla, Layla, Layla. You need me, and I'm here for you," he said, but with the way he slurred my names together, it could only mean one thing.

"Are you drunk right now?"

He kept his laugh as quiet as he could, but I still wouldn't doubt that it woke someone up. "A little bit."

"So I didn't wake you, then."

He shook his head. "Nope."

I let out a sigh. "Well, make yourself at home, I guess. Just don't throw up anywhere."

"I'm not going to throw up. I know exactly where I am right now, so I'm okay."

"Can you tell me why you're here?"

He laughed again. "Oh, Layla. I don't know a goddamn thing about what I ever do."

"Good to know. It really connects a lot of dots about you," I said. "Well, I was just about to go to bed. You're welcome to sleep on the floor where I know you won't get into any trouble, but sharing time is over. Goodnight."

"I don't think so." Ryan held up a hand, and before I could tell him that I really didn't care about his thoughts, he continued. "Do you know how long I've known you, and I still don't know anything about you?"

"You know plenty about me," I said.

"Fifteen months. Isabel wanted some photos of Corey, and she said that the ones you took looked like they were taken by his girlfriend, but she wanted ones that looked at least a little official, so she told me to go with you to the game."

I hesitated for a moment. That was all true.

"And when we were sitting next to each other, I could tell you didn't want to talk to me, but I kept asking you questions, and it would have been rude to ignore me, so you gave me a bunch of one-word answers," he continued.

I nodded. "Some things never change, I guess."

"And I don't get why you won't let them change."

"Is it bad that I just want a little consistency in my life?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Not at all. Most people want that. But I don't get why you still hide so much from me. After all this time working together, why don't you trust me?"

"Is this why you came here? To interrogate me?" I shook my head. "Because I hate to break it to you, but you're still not going to get anything."

"Would you just tell me why you didn't take that internship? I may not have the whole picture, but I know enough to know that it's not like you to turn down something so serious that can get you where you want to go."

Was he even more talkative while drunk? Jesus.

"You want to know why? Will you shut up and go to sleep then?" I asked. "I have a final at nine, and I'd like to get at least a couple hours of sleep."

He nodded. "I'll shut up forever."

I knew that wasn't true, but I indulged him a little anyway. "My mom is sick, and it was unpaid, so I couldn't take it."

"Sick?"

"Multiple sclerosis. She was diagnosed a few years ago, and it's really starting to take a toll on her body and mind, so I have to work a worthless job that makes money instead of focusing on my future." I shrugged. "I don't mind doing it after everything she's done for me, but—"

Ryan interrupted me. "But it's a lot of stress."

I gave him a small smile. "Yeah, that's one way to put it."

He didn't respond right away, but I couldn't blame him. There wasn't much he could say.

"Layla?"

"Yes?"

"Is that why you have a stick up your ass?"

I frowned. "I thought we were having a moment, Ryan. Your drunk ass ruined it."

"My drunk ass is the reason we're having it."

I shook my head. The real reason was because I was imploding, but he didn't need to remember that.

"Layla?"

"Go to sleep."

"I didn't mean what I just said. I think you're really tough," Ryan said.

"Thank you."

"And I also think you need a break from all the stress you're under. Let's do something fun tomorrow."

"I'm going home to take care of my mom and sister."

"Can I come? My flight for Arizona isn't until—" he paused for a while, then laughed. "I don't remember when the hell it is."

"I'm gonna turn the light off, so get comfortable."

I wasn't sure how that was possible on the old, flat carpet, but that wasn't my problem.

"Layla?"

"Oh my god. What?"

"You forgot to give me a blanket."

"You'll be fine. Goodnight."

"Okay, fine. Goodnight."

Before he could put himself down to sleep, I took the afghan my mother crocheted special for me off of my bed and handed it to him. It was pink, but he would just have to live with it.

"This is a really nice blanket," he mumbled, and within a few minutes, he was asleep on the floor. From a hundred to zero just like that.

I smiled and shook my head. As annoying as he was, sometimes it was nice to have him as a distraction.

---------------------------------------------------------

Hey there! Thank you so much for reading!

So for today's question, what is something silly that you have a strong opinion about?

I really don't trust people who make a big deal out of their own birthday (in most circumstances, but obviously there are a few exceptions). I don't know why, but it's just so weird to me, and I can't get over it. It's one thing to have a little celebration, but it's a whole different thing to expect the world to be thrilled for you.