Sasquatch to the Moon

12: Twist and Shout

And then I get other types of restless and gross, RLS, for example. Restless legs syndrome. Sounds fake and 99% of the time you don't need to go to a doctor to diagnose it or whatever. 1 in 10 people have it and it's insanely common for people with ADHD. It happens during the evening and at night. It feels like my actual muscles are itchy, but I know that I can't stretch or scratch to get it to go away, all I can do is move them around. Again, just like the stimming, suppressing the urge to move around makes it way worse. 

Which is why I'm on lap 16 of the plane aisle, rubbing my hands through my hair and tapping my tongue against the backs of my teeth. 

Everyone else is completely asleep. Including Yeti, which is a new thing. His head is back against the headrest, mouth closed. He looks relaxed, more so than normal, every time I pass him I keep my eyes on him for an extra second or two, enjoying the way the moonlight from outside the plane window is making his white hair glow. 

I walk to the front again, spinning on my heel and walking back. 

"Rocket?" I hear a very familiar low Swedish tone that makes my insides leap into my throat with excitement even though I know this crush is a very very bad idea. 

"Yeah?" I stop at our seat, looking over at him. 

"What are you doing?" He blinks at me a couple times, his voice is deeper and growly due to being asleep for the last three hours. 

"Pacing."

"Why?" He's rubbing his eyes, shifting and leaning forward to stretch a little. 

"ADHD." I sigh, hoping he gets what I mean by it. 

He nods, looking around for a second. "How long have you been up? And how long have you been pacing? Your hair is a wreck." He fires the three statements at me in quick order, sounding like a worried mother. It's a change.

"I never went to sleep, and I've been pacing for a half hour." I say, my voice as quiet as I can make it. 

"Do you think you can sit? We can watch something or play a game if you want." 

I take a deep breath, looking around. We still have two and a half hours in this hell-tank and I'm physically exhausted but mentally hyped up. 

"Yeah, I might be able to sit." At this, I flop back into my seat, my legs are still gross and restless but if I kick my shoes off and rub my feet together like I normally do to fall asleep, it should be alright. 

So I lean down and untie my trusty converse, pushing them under my seat the second they're off. 

He hasn't said anything so I speak up again. "Want to watch a movie or something?" I ask, pulling out my phone. "I didn't have anything saved for today, but I can rewatch something?"

"Sure, because I saved a book and I don't think you can read Swedish." He gives a rather shy smile, a teensy quirk in his lip.

"No, definitely can't read Swedish." I hand him one of my earbuds and we lean together, shoulders touching. "Have you seen The Office?"

"More than once."

"It's the only thing I have saved."

"I didn't say I wouldn't want to watch it all over again," he raises his eyebrows at me.

"That's the spirit." I lean on my elbow and pull up the very first episode and we get to it. About halfway through one episode, we have to pause it and reshuffle our position, moving the armrest up and getting closer. I end up sharing the blanket I brought with him so it's spread across both of our laps. He pulls down both tray tables and uses a couple of pencils and a rubber band that was in his jacket to make an impromptu phone stand. So far, rubbing my feet together and keeping one hand busy rubbing the seam on my sweatpants is seeming to work.