9781250209153

Sometime later, I find myself standing in the middle of a bedroom that is
unmistakably Honey-Belle’s. There’s an entire wall of stuffed animals, most
of which are unicorns. I count nine different music boxes atop the dressers,
desk, and nightstand. The sleigh-style bed is covered with a fluffy yellow
comforter beneath a high white canopy.
Irene moves to stand on the opposite side of the bed, eyeing it like a
sewer she’s dreading climbing into. I step up to my side and wait. There’s a
swell of silence as we delay the inevitable.
“Fuck,” I say finally.
“Hmph,” she snorts in agreement.
“You couldn’t convince her to put us in the bunk bed room? She’s your
friend.”
“This is your stupid scheme, and I didn’t see you making any effort.”
I shake my head. “It’s impossible to argue with her. It’s like upsetting a
baby.”
“Don’t patronize her.”
“I’m not, but you know what I mean.”
“You definitely are, but whatever.” She snatches her pajamas out of her
duffel bag in a way that suggests the conversation is over. I lay my
borrowed pair out on the bed. We both go still. There’s another swell of
silence.
“Nervous to change in front of me, snookums?” I ask.
“Do you always project your neuroses onto other people?” She slips her
towel off her body and I roll my eyes so I won’t accidentally look at her
bare skin. She turns away to change, but glances back at me at the last
second. “Don’t you dare creep on me.”
“Right, ’cause that’s what I’m thinking. I’d rather creep on a bunch of
boys.”
“Funny,” she huffs, spinning around. She starts to pull off her bathing
suit straps; her back muscles move in the dim light. I wonder how it would
feel to press my lips to the nape of her neck—
No. Stop.
I squeeze my eyes shut and turn hastily around. I slip into my borrowed
set of pajamas—a soft blue shirt with a ribbon at the collar and a pair of