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We talk for about fifteen minutes, going over the logistics for the trip I was dwelling on earlier. By then the sun is starting to come up, so I need to get back to my own room to get dressed and ready for the day.
I step out into the hall and carefully close his bedroom door so it doesn’t make any sound. I’ve turned toward my room when I’m suddenly confronted with Langley, who must have gone to the supply room to get the period pads she’s holding.
Her eyes widen as she processes my presence and whose room I’ve just come out of.
My cheeks burn, and an immediate (false) excuse springs to my lips, but I stop myself from saying it.
I give her a little wave instead and head for my room, and neither one of us says anything.
It was probably a mistake to go to Jackson’s room this morning. Now Langley might tell the others, and things could get weird or complicated.
I don’t want that.
I’m not even sure what I do want.
But, no matter the upcoming complications, I can’t seem to convince myself that this morning had been a mistake.
