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“What’s the mission?” she whispered, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
“We’re rescuing Josie, c’mon.”
I used my phone flashlight to make it more of a ‘mission’ and we tiptoed through the apartment and down the stairwell.
Josie answered her door after the first knock looking pretty timid in her pj’s, robe, and slippers. She was clearly wide awake.
I cleared my throat. “I promised you–”
She threw her arms around my neck and squeezed. I paused for a second, shocked that she cared so much that I showed up. It wasn’t that big a deal… but I guess it was to her. Stevie jumped into the hug a second later too, and I sat there feeling like the hero of the story, and I loved it.
“Grab your pillow. You’re coming back with us,” I whispered into her hair.
She was gone for a minute, grabbing her pillow and a small tupperware container, and then we were off, sneaking back up the stairwell.
As I watched the two girls in front of me, I couldn’t help but wonder how the hell I’d made it through life so far without these two by my side making me feel like this… Like I was important; like I had a purpose, and that was to keep them safe and happy.
“Woohoo! Slumber party!” Josie shouted out.
“Shh!” I warned. “This is asecretmission, remember?” I just really didn’t want her to wake up the whole complex.
But when we opened the loft door, Hassik and Garcia were already awake, walking out of their rooms.
“You guys hear that thunder?” Garcia asked, running a hand over his crazy hair.
“Loud,” Hassik added, rubbing his eyes.
“You know what slumber parties need?” Josie piped up.
Stevie whirled around. “What?”
“S’mores,” Josie said with a smile, opening the tupperware container she brought with her.
I cracked a grin and leaned to press a kiss into her hair. She looked up and beamed with the most heartwarming smile.
I still needed to find a way to define our relationship, but for right now, it felt like an unspoken truth that we were together.
Stevie hopped up on our counter and started making microwave smores with Josie. But as soon as the first one was done, Garcia shouted, “Mine!”
Stevie’s eyebrows drew down. “No, it’s mine.”
“Why not mine?” Hassik pipped in.
“No, it’s Stevie’s” I argued.
I’m not sure who was the first to pull who into a headlock, but that’s when we started wrestling like usual.
“Stop that!” Josie complained.
But I wasn’t about to be the first to tap out, and they were thinking the same.
“Alright, now I’m upset!” Josie yelled, stomping her foot.
“Now she’s upset!” we all chorused.
“Fine! It’s mine!” Josie said, and then she bit into the s’more, making all of us groan.
A half hour later, we were all scattered around the living room watching “10 Things I Hate About You,” to drown out the noise from the storm. At the start of the movie, Josie had been trying to teach me how to French braid Stevie’s hair, but Stevie had fallen asleep to me brushing her hair out, and Josie started nodding off against my shoulder shortly after that.
