Page 10

I kind of want to opt out of the closeness right now. An awkward buzz creeps over my skin. Shrugging away from his large hand, I tell him I have work to do because already I feel the weight of the two issues I was worried about: hockey and Trish. And something tells me this eager beaver attitude of his means he feels it, too, but he’s intent on sweeping it under the rug.
He checks his watch. “Yeah, and I should get my room together.” Turning, he walks toward the spare bedroom like he’s been living here for months instead of a few minutes. I stand in place for a moment, wondering if I should ask him if he needs help. I did with everyone else. Start things off on a good foot and all that. Quickly, I run to my bathroom, redo my hair, anddouble-check there are no crusties on my lips before I head to his room.
I reach out to knock on his open door to let him know I’m here, but I pause as he takes out a couple of framed pictures. The first he puts back immediately, and I’m almost one hundred percent sure I spotted Trish, but the other, he places on the stand near the bed. A picture of his family—a smiling older couple with their arms around a younger version of Isaiah and an even younger girl.
The floor creaks underneath my feet, and he whips his head around.Damn. I didn’t even have time to knock. “J-just wanted to know if you needed help unpacking.”
The olive branch has been extended. When he says no, I can go work on my article.
“Actually, do you mind helping with the fitted sheet? I don’t know what wizard came up with the idea, but its usage eludes me.”
“Oh. Yeah.” I take a hesitant step forward. “Sure.”
Seems a little strange to touch his sheets, but okay. He points to a tote on the floor labeledbedding. At least they don’t look gross.
“They’re clean,” he says. “I see you over there eyeing them. I wouldn’t shove used sheets in your face on the first day.”
“Oh, is that a second day kind of thing?”
He thinks for a moment. “Maybe like a second month kind of thing.”
I smile, though it comes slowly to my face. He was always funny. That I remember. Trish would look at him with contempt every time he cracked a joke, like she was exasperated that he even talked. God, she’d be so pissed to know he was moving in here…with me.
That thought brings an even bigger smile to my face.
After getting the tote open, I bring his pale-gray sheets over to the bed and start to make it when I frown. It doesn’t fit. On a hunch, I peer down at the label. “Well…” I turn toward him, “I’ve found your problem. These mattresses are twin XLs. Not twins.”
“Wait, are you serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
He stares from the mattress to the sheet hanging from my fingers and back again. Then he starts to laugh. “I haven’t figured that out this whole semester.”
“How have you been sleeping?”
“I drape it across the mattress the best I can. Sometimes I use two of the other sheets.”
“Sounds like you’re in desperate need of a fitted sheet. It will change your life.”
“I’ll order one, thanks.”
“You know, I might have an extra. Let me look.”
“Really? Yeah.”
I walk from the room, shaking my head. He’s a senior and didn’t realize the beds were twin XLs. Like,what?
I rifle through my closet and smirk when I pull out my spare sheets. It was the first sheet set that I came here with.
Pink polka dots.
He’ll love it.
Walking back with a pep in my step, I flourish the sheets. “Ta-da.”
His face drops. “Are you serious?”
I shrug. “Those with incorrectly sized sheets shouldn’t complain.”