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Her own pajamas were folded in a drawer — a simple gray sweatshirt so old she couldn’t remember even buying it anymore. It might have even been her mother’s, infested with holes as it was. She undressed quickly, casting Thea a sidelong glance when she peeled off her jeans.
“I hate jeans so much.” It was an attempt at breaking the ice, though it was true enough. The button had left a round dent in the soft flesh below her navel, and the seam had lined the inside of her silver-striped thighs. It might’ve helped if she could afford a new pair that actually fit her size-fourteen body.
“That’s why pajamas exist.” Thea, dwarfed in Bryce’s old shirt, collapsed onto the bed with a sigh of relief. “Sweet, sweet bliss. Which side are you taking?”
“The wall,” Bryce said, pulling her shorts on quickly and tying her hair up. She hated the way it felt when she left it down, like a fleece collar clinging to the back of her neck. “You get up to pee, like, six times during the night.”
She turned the main light off and Thea swapped it for the bedside lamp, an old desk one whose bulb was slowly flickering away. Bryce had to climb over Thea to get to her spot, and she did it with little grace, their limbs tangling between the duvet. Comfort washed through her as soon as her head hit the pillow, her eyes fluttering shut so that she could finally escape, if her mind would stop buzzing enough to let her.
Thea turned off the bedside lamp and lay beside her, the smell of her citrus perfume clinging to Bryce’s bedsheets in a way Bryce knew she’d still be able to smell tomorrow, when Thea had left and she was alone again.
“I’m sorry you didn’t end up having fun tonight,” Thea murmured.
Bryce brought her knees to her chest. “I’m sorry my drama ruined it.”
“Did anything happen with Peter?”
Bryce frowned. She knew that voice. It was the same voice Thea had used when they’d visited the Godfreys the other day. The voice of someone who was being nosy but trying not to show it. “No. Did anything happen with Heidi?”
“No.”
Bryce hated that the answer made her glad. She said nothing, though, instead kicking her legs restlessly. Her body still thrummed with annoyance, made all the worse by the knowledge that there were five other teenagers under her roof tonight who had brought alcohol into the house and trashed the place with their mess.
“Bryce,” Thea said, voice a low murmur.
“What?”
She had to stifle a gasp when Thea’s hands slipped into hers again, the mattress shifting beneath her as she turned onto her side. She found Thea’s eyes gleaming in the moonlight, watching her.
“It’s going to be okay. You know that, don’t you?”
Bryce didn’t know anything anymore, but it was nice just to be told, to be comforted. She so often felt alone in this bed. So she squeezed Thea’s hand and let the light circles traced across her arm send her slowly to sleep. She could be angry and worried and exhausted again tomorrow.
Tonight, she would stay wrapped in this blanket of peace with her best friend.
