Tasha awoke with a start. Judging by the scraps of sky visible through the blinds, it was no later than four in the morning.
He would not allow himself to continue sleeping. Tasha’s soporific lazy eye obstructed his view momentarily, causing him to bump into Sigourney’s bedroom door.
“Hello?” she whispered. “Is somebody there?”
“I’m sorry, it was not intentional.” Great, he thought. Another reason for her to hate me.
Sigourney peered into the dim light. “You’re bleeding.” She said it with no emotion; it was simply a fact. When his head had come into contact with the door, it had also been scratched by the star that was hanging there.
“Let me clean it for you,” she said quietly getting up from underneath the covers.
“You know something?” Tasha chuckled lowly. “You are better mannered when you are half asleep.”
“What are you talking about, Reggie?”
Tasha stepped back. “I am Tasha. I don’t know who Reggie is.”
Sigourney’s face fell with the realization. Quietly, she excused herself. It was true.