“Get some sleep, Melly.”
“You too.”
The door closes behind him.
I don’t move for a full minute. I stand in the middle of his room with the t-shirt against my chest and just exist in this moment because I can’t even process what the hell is happening. The smell of him is heavier in here than it was on the porch.
I let myself look around. I don’t snoop. I just let my eyes go around the room, even as my head spins.
The bookshelf has three hockey biographies, two nonfiction histories, and one paperback novel that surprises me so muchI tilt my head to read the title. Literary. Set in Ireland. I would have bet money against it.
There’s a notebook open on his desk in his handwriting. I don’t let my eyes focus.
His dresser has a small wooden frame on top of it. It’s a family photo. His mom in the middle — his mom, who I met twice in my life, in her kitchen at a birthday party in seventh grade I wasn’t really invited to. Around her, Devin and Mia and Lou. Lou’s doing bunny ears behind Mia’s head. Devin’s in a red football jersey, smug.
Blue isn’t in the photo. It must be a recent photo. I know he loves his younger siblings with everything he is.
I look at his mother’s face. She has the same eyes Blue has. The same crinkle at the corner. She had smiled at me in that kitchen and saidyou must be Melly. I’m still unsure what she meant by that.
I look away and sit down on the edge of his bed.
I take off his hat and set it on his nightstand. I pull the jersey over my head. I fold it badly because my hands are shaking a little. I pull the t-shirt over my head. This one’s enormous too. It falls past my hips and the smell of him is sharper than the sheets, more recent, like he sleeps in it sometimes, and I have to sit with the collar against my nose for a second.
I crawl under the comforter and lie on my side. I stare at the wall.
He doesn’t know I broke up with Chase. I don’t want to tell him because I don’t want him to do the math. Tonight I just want this. He’s never been this nice to me before.
I close my eyes.
I’ve been tossing for a few minutes when a soft knock comes from the door.
“Melly?” his voice is soft.
I turn. “Yeah.”
The door opens an inch.
“I brought you water.”
I sit up. “Thank you.”
He comes in, still in the wings. He sets the glass on the nightstand quietly.
“Sleep on your side. If you get sick. Don’t lie on your back.”
“Okay.”
I’m up on one elbow. The blanket’s at my waist. The t-shirt is gaping at one shoulder.
He doesn’t let his eyes go to my shoulder.
“Night, Melly.”
He turns to go. I open my mouth before I’ve decided to. “Blue.”
He stops.
“There’s enough room,” I quickly explain.
