"I've been having this weird dream lately." Xavier's eyebrows were drawn together in concentration as he massaged pink into my scalp.
I could see our similarities as we stood side by side in the mirror. Pink overtook honey brown but I was still little more than a hollow imitation of him.
"Since you're trapped here for the next…" Xavier grabbed the dye box and squinted at it, "…forty five minutes to an hour. I'm gonna tell you about it."
I scowled but didn't protest. Half because I appreciated his help and half because I felt guilty about the dregs of hatred for him swirling in my subconscious.
"So it's about a guy from our study group."
My eyes flashed wide open. Thankfully, Xavier didn't seem to notice. His focus was still solely on the task at hand.
"Uhhh what's his name? That um- the interior design major. Everyone was really shocked when he joined our study group cause his grades are way better than ours."
"…Kay," I said shakily, hoping I was mistaken.
Instead, Xavier snapped his fingers— as much as you could while wearing gloves slicked with dye —and nodded eagerly.
"Yeah! Kay! Dude you're so good with names."
My eyes fell to my lap and I smiled bitterly, "No, you just have a shit memory."
In retaliation, Xavier smacked three, gloved fingers over my forehead. I used a towel to dab the dye away, but my skin was already tinged a dusty pink.
I looked at myself in the mirror. There were three distinct lines for each of Xavier's fingers. It reminded me of a cartoon character with a fever. I grimaced and glared up at Xavier. His eyes flicked to mine but he pretended not to notice.
"Sooooo Kay- I barely know the guy right?" He paused as if to allow me to respond but continued before I could speak, "But every night I'm having these…weirdly erotic dreams."
My mouth fell open and I turned to face Xavier.
"Dude! Don't move!"
"I thought you weren't…into things like that," I awkwardly trailed off.
"I'm not! That's what's so weird!"
Finally, I saw what I should've been able to see from the start. The confusion, distress, and fatigue painting Xavier's actions. If only I'd been a little more attentive, a little less jealous. If I were the kind of friend Xavier deserved.
I pinched my thigh to ground myself and aggressively beat the little devil on my shoulder screaming for Xavier's downfall away with a broom.
"I'm sorry," Guilt weighed heavily on my shoulders. They fell as I stared down at my lap. Behind me, Xavier paused until I looked up to meet his eyes in the mirror.
"What're you sorry about? It's not like you're the one giving me freaky sex dreams," Xavier snorted while laughing, "Unless you are. You're not some kinda succubus, right?"
It was my turn to laugh. I shook my head which earned Xavier grabbing a fistful of my hair. He yanked so my head tilted back and poked me in the nose with his other gloved hand.
"Stay still unless you want your whole face looking like a gay Smurf."
"Aren't all the smurfs gay?"
"Don't sass me!" Xavier turned his attention back to my hair, "What was I…Oh yeah! The dreams."
Xavier's discomfort shouldn't bring me joy. He was my closest friend, the only person who'd ever reached out to me during my lonely high school years. He was the closest thing I had to family. And, if I was being honest with myself, I probably loved him more than I loved my flesh and blood relatives.
Despite all of this, I felt a sick satisfaction when a distressed shiver went through his body as he recounted his dream.
"It's never the same thing twice! It'd be easier if it was! Maybe then I could get used to it and sorta just go through the motions, ya know?"
"You sound like a dissatisfied housewife in desperate need of a divorce," I deadpanned.
Xavier stuck his tongue out at me playfully. I smiled softly as his usual jubilance began to return.
"I'm not a housewife! I'm a victim!"
"Same thing."
Xavier ignored my comment, "So every night! It's something different! At the park. At a bar. In my bedroom. In YOUR bedroom-"
"Not cool dude," I laughed awkwardly to fight back the little devil that'd begun to recover from its earlier beating.
"Tell him that!"
Xavier's distress was growing again. His breathing was strained and his expression pinched. His fingers had long since gone still on my head and he looked a half step away from crying. The jealousy devil decided to see itself out this time.
"Want some of the melatonin my mom sent me? Maybe you've got poor sleep quality and it's giving you nightmares."
Xavier sighed and absently wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. I decided not to say anything about the large pink streak it left behind, he had enough on his mind at the moment.
"Yeah, I've tried that. Honestly, I feel like I've tried everything," Xavier began counting out his attempts on his fingers, "I tried pills, sleep spray, meditation before bed, decreased screen time, reading, weed. I bought new sheets-"
As Xavier continued his list, guilt roiled in my stomach. Why hadn't he come to me with this sooner? Was I really so unreliable?
"Do you wanna swap rooms with me?"
Xavier looked up from his hands when I cut him off. He tilted his head and squinted his eyes skeptically before shrugging, "Why the hell not?"