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"Oh!" I stop him. "Oh!" My lungs just collapsed. "Uh ..." I take a deep breath. "Um."
He laughs at my inability to say a single coherent word. "Lana, I'm confessing. I am an idiot."
"O-kay." My breathing is labored--my heart is constricting airflow because it's beating so fast ... in my throat. "Anyway,"--the worst segue ever after he just confessed to being in love with me--"Parker and I are close, but we're just friends. The Harrisons, the whole family, have this weird protective gene, and they look out for me, for reasons unknown. I'm kind of stuck with them."
Allowing my awkward change of subject to slide, Grant asks, "That's why Lance is your chaperone?"
"Yeah. His father--"
I'm interrupted by a loud bang on the door. "Get dressed! I need to use the bathroom," Brendan hollers from the other side.
"Hold it for one more minute!" I yell back.
"What's his story?" Grant asks, nodding toward the door.
"He's a necessary evil."
Grant chuckles. Then leans down and kisses me gently. "Let's ice your hand."
When we emerge, Ashton and Brendan look disappointed that we aren't flushed and disheveled. Lance just eyes Grant warily, like he's trying to decide if his intentions are honorable. Seriously, the overprotective brother vibe is getting worse. Although, I think he tends to forget that he's a year younger than me.
I crawl on the bed next to Ashton and she places the ice pack on my hand with a pained expression, securing it with an ace bandage. She has me take a couple ibuprofen too. "If it doesn't look better in the morning, we should go to the clinic for x-rays."
"They have an x-ray machine on campus?" I ask in surprise.
"Of course," Ashton answers. "They want to keep all medical information sealed, or as much possible. The press loves that stuff."
"And I thought Printz-Lee was big on privacy."
"Oh, you have no idea," Lance tells him, his head propped on a throw pillow with a blanket that I've never seen before covering him. "I claim the couch, by the way. No way I want to be anywhere near that bed with the four of you in it."
"Lance!" I scold. "We're not--"
"Speak for yourself," Brendan says, washing his hands at the pedestal sink.
"Keep your pants on," I tell him, my tone threatening.
"C'mon," Ashton beckons, pulling the blanket back. "I already called big spoon, so get in here, Lana."
Grant takes off his shoes and socks and crawls across to the far side against the wall in shorts and a t-shirt. Brendan turns off the lights and I slide in next to Grant, facing him, while Ashton takes her big spoon position behind me. And I don't want to think about Brendan on the other side of her. We all fit ... barely.
"Your room is pretty amazing." Grant is focused on the ceiling. I tilt my head up to see tiny lights blinking like shining stars above the bed.
"Ashton did it for me," I tell him. She squeezes me with her arm draped around my waist.
"Do you like it?" she asks, almost sounding nervous, which is so not like her. A swarm of guilt overtakes me. I should have said something to her a long time ago.
"I love it. Thank you. I still haven't seen everything, but it's incredible."
Grant sits up, as he notices the far wall. "Are those?" He doesn't finish. He sees the fireflies. Or I think that's what he's looking at. There's a lot to take in, but there's not much light to see anything else.
Ashton giggles.
"You know?" Grant asks, settling down beside me.
"I know everything. So get used to it."
Grant laughs.
