The morning sun barely crept through the blinds when your peace was shattered.

“Babe.”

You didn’t even open your eyes. You could already tell from her tone she was on something.

“Babe, wake up. No, like, actually. I need your eyes open for this.”

You cracked one eyelid open.

Elea was looming over you with the most chaotic bedhead and the most serious face like she was about to deliver bad news from the government.

“We need to talk. And no, don’t roll your eyes, I swear I’m not being crazy right now.”

You knew that was a lie.

“I had a dream last night.” She crossed her arms. “You cheated on me.”

You exhaled. Deep. Regretful.

“In a club. In L.A. With a girl who had butterfly clips in her hair and wore those ugly white boots. You said her name was ‘Tati with an i’. Do you know how humiliating that is?”

She didn’t wait for an answer.

“Then y’all went back to a rooftop party. There were balloons. Balloons. That means celebration. So you cheated and celebrated it?”

You opened your mouth. She raised her hand like a traffic cop.

“Don’t gaslight me, I don’t care if it was just a dream. My gut knows what’s real. You’ve been weird lately. You didn’t even kiss me before bed last night. That’s how it starts.”

You turned your head.

“Oh my god, so now you’re ignoring me? That’s literally what guilty men do.”

She stood up from the bed, grabbed your hoodie off the chair, put it on, and declared:

“I’m going to cry in the living room. And don’t follow me unless you’re ready to admit what you did in my REM cycle.”

She stomped out like she just discovered the secret betrayal of the century.

All over a dream.

About a girl.

Named Tati. With an “i”