thirteen. be my distraction

                                    

                                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
                          
.·゜゜·　　·゜゜·．
                          
Ever just lay down and have an existential crisis? Because as of recently I've found myself doing it a lot. More specifically, in the last two days, I've been doing it. 
                          
I got home on Friday night, my mom was already asleep, and I just laid down on my bed and stared at my ceiling. Usually, when I had a lot on my mind, I'd let my eyes dart from star to star and try to name the constellations off the top of my head. But this time, I just stared, the dull glow of the stars being the only lighting in the room. It wasn't until Ben came into my room that I remembered I was still wearing my dress and a full face of makeup as I stared blankly at the ceiling.
                          
I never think about anything in particular in these instances. I just think. Think about school, about my family, my future, my past, me. There isn't a single thought that sticks out.
                          
Or, at least that's how it used to be.
                          
When I flopped down onto my bed Sunday evening, hair pulled up into a bun and facemask on, there was only one thing on my mind. What would Ricky say if he saw me right now? I didn't have much time to dwell on that thought as my bedroom door was pushed open and in pattered my younger brother.
                          
Luis made a face at my appearance. "Why do you look like that?"
                          
I rolled my eyes. "It's for my skin." He nods, like the words mean anything to him in the slightest. "Is there a reason you came in here, little man?" 
                          
He perks up. "Your blanquito is here." My heart drops, of all fucking times for him to show up. "Pa told me to ask you if we can send him up because he doesn't know if you're dressed."
                          
"And you didn't even knock," I hissed, glaring at my younger brother. "Well, go get him!" It just now occurred to me that I asked Ricky to print out our photos to put in the album for our project. I expected him to just give it to me when I see him in school tomorrow, but I guess the exchange is happening now. There's also the teeny tiny factor of me lacking the ability to turn anyone away, so, now, I'm stuck greeting Ricky with this dumb face mask on.
                          
The previous question I asked myself of what Ricky would say is answered, as the boy bursts into laughter the moment he reaches my door. I'm grateful for the mask because it means he isn't able to see my face as it grows more and more red with embarrassment. Unlike me, Ricky is dressed in a cute outfit, and I hate him for it. 
                          
He straightens up after doubling over in laughter, wide grin on display. "Bad timing?" he teases, stepping further into my room.
                          
"Shut up, it's not like you texted me or anything," I mumble, crossing my legs to make room for him to sit. Ricky noticed, dropping his bag onto the floor before dropping himself onto my bed. I watch as he falls back onto his back, his eyes fluttering shut. Then a low sigh leaves his lips, and I find myself frowning. "Are you okay?" I ask.