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Uncertainty took over then and I quickly yanked them off before snatching the sweatpants back up and stepping into them. Like I predicted, his sweatpants were enormous on me, coming up to my chest, and the moment I let go of the waistband, they fell to my ankles.
Yanking them back up, I clutched the waistband and shuffled awkwardly into the bathroom, trying not to trip over the legs in the process. Retrieving my hair tie from where I’d left it on the shower rack, I tied a loose knot at the side of the pants and secured them up. For about two seconds, until they dropped to the floor again.
Morose, I yanked the boxer shorts back on, ignored the voice in my head telling me that this was wrong, retrieved my hair tie from the traitor sweatpants, and tied a firm knot in the boxers.
Unsure of what to do next, I returned to his room and began to fold the discarded clothes. I had no bloody idea why I was doing this, but I had a feeling he wouldn’t and I didn’t want him to be left with wrinkled clothes because he dragged them all out of his wardrobe for my benefit.
I was folding the last T-shirt on Johnny’s bed when I noticed something sticking out from under his bed.
Something that looked just like me.
Bending down, I retrieved the newspaper with shaky hands and just stared at the picture of us.
He kept it. In his room. Under his bed.
My heart leaped against my chest.
It doesn’t mean anything. It’s a nice picture. That’s all.
Don’t read into this.
I was completely absorbed in my thoughts when a low groaning noise came from somewhere close by. Dropping the newspaper on the floor, I remained completely still and listened carefully.
A few seconds later, the groaning noise came again.
From the bed!
Freaked out, I grabbed a random folded T-shirt in my hands with a death grip and lowered my face to where his duvet was balled up at the foot of the bed.
I was certain that’s where the groaning came from.
“Hello?” I whispered, eyes locked on the duvet.
It moved in response, the quilt moving back and forth rapidly.
“Oh my god,” I screamed, staggering backwards.
Dropping Johnny’s T-shirt on the floor, I pressed a hand to my chest and watched the bed like it was a scene straight out of Poltergeist.
“Is someone in there?” I asked when my voice returned.
I had to be imagining this. It hadn’t really moved. I was just hyperalert.
I was losing my bloody mind.
“Hello?”
The duvet moved again.
“Oh my god!”
The duvet started to rise up.
Oh, screw that!
This time when I screamed, it was at the top of my lungs as I lunged away from the bed. Knocking up against the chest of drawers behind me, I lost my balance and sprawled face-first on the floor, grazing my chin on the hardwood floor in the process.
Undeterred by my faceplant, I scrambled to my feet, only to collapse in a tangled heap when my feet got stuck in his giant pants that I’d forgotten to pick up. Kicking my foot free, and still screaming my head off, I dragged myself off the floor and bolted for the bedroom door.
