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D--> I need a towel
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Kyle nodded greetings to Ema. Hayley's ex, eh? The undeniably male part of Kyle gave it's approval- girl on girl is hot, after all. But those lower brain functions were mostly useless and served only to embarrass Kyle at inappropriate times. More important was the terminology Hayley insisted on- "best friend" instead of "ex-girlfriend." Hayley was trying to shield Kyle's feelings. How cute. He would have to make mention of it later, tell her that it was unnecessary but adorable. Still, he would use the terminology that she insisted on. She also lied. Kyle wasn't always the best with memory, but he knew he had never been introduced before. In fact, Hayley seemed to have taken special care to avoid mentioning her exes. A note to be made.

More important still was Hayley's story of events. Kyle knew slightly more- no mention of the shooting was made- but still learned a bit about what Hayley had been doing before they reunited. Most importantly, she did not mention the... incident. Probably a good idea. Ema looked... well, she looked like a tomato now. But Kyle didn't know her well. Her reactions to Hayley's incident were unknowable. Hayley extended an offer to Ema, for the purposes of joining their merry band. And she suggested sleep- a semi wonderful suggestion, except for... Kyle wasn't tired.

That's not to say he wasn't fatigued- that he was, and he would be sore come the morning. It was that... sleep wouldn't be easy to reach. He usually had troubles sleeping without his pills anyway- restless fidgeting and the urge to arrange things on his bedside table into groups of three kept him awake. Here though, there were additional problems. For one thing, completion of his normal nightly ritual would be impossible. For another thing, and it was a thing that would likely plague Hayley too, he could still see that boy's face in his mind. The blood would never be entirely washed away, from him or from Hayley. He kind of hoped that those who had stayed behind would bury the boy, or at least perform some sort of last rite. Last thing they needed was restless dead coming after them.

"If we do sleep here, I'll keep watch. I'm not tired."
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Sorry, Mom. Sorry, God. · The Beach: East