Page 91 of My Family

"We don't have to think about it yet," I tell him. "We've got tonight."

He nods. When we finally get out, the air in the room hits cold and sharp. We dry off with the scratchy towels, but Liam doesn't bother putting on clothes. He crawls into bed naked, burrows under the covers, and waits for me to join him.

I do.

He curls against my chest, a tangle of limbs and damp hair and warm skin, and I hold him tight.

I'm half asleep when the voices start.

Muffled, coming through the wall to our left.

Room 206.

At first, it's just tones, not words, the cadence of an argument. I recognize the lower register as Reed's.

The higher one is Tyler's.

Liam lifts his head from my chest. His eyes are open, alert, the sleepiness gone.

"Are they…"

"Shh."

We listen.

The argument escalates. There's anger; I can hear it.

Then silence.

Liam's eyes meet mine in the half-dark. His mouth is slightly open.

Neither of us speaks.

Then comes the sound.

A rhythmic thud against the shared wall.

The headboard hitting drywall.

The thudding is accompanied by the faintest creak of springs and, beneath that, other sounds.

Liam claps a hand over his mouth.

His eyes are enormous.

"Oh my God," he whispers through his fingers.

"Don't," I say, and I feel a little nauseous.

"They're…"

"I'm aware."

"The arguing just turned into…"

"I know what it turned into."

Liam presses his face into my chest and shakes with silent laughter, his whole body vibrating against mine.