Chet's POV
I'm tired. I want to sleep.
I miss Sammy. He's sleeping with Lucas. I wanted to run my hand through his hair while I tried lulling myself to sleep. But I couldn't.
I'm tired.
My sketchbook sat at the edge of my bed, mocking me. I hated drawing. I hated the way my hands grew stiff and my lines came out too heavy. I hated having to force my fingers to bend a certain way just to draw something that should've been easy for me.
But it wasn't anymore.
As I stared at the notepad more, I felt the anxiety from this morning. Where is he? He hasn't texted me. Did he leave me? He could just be sleeping, but what if he's not? What if he's ignoring me? He promised me he'd come.
I swallowed down the words when Rylan finally came to pick me up. I sketched, I told him. Because I did, I sk
