Chapter 71 Excellent At Nonsense
EXCELLENT AT NONSENSE
Mine - Sleep Token
Honeymonster
When Kayla comes back into the room, she looks like she’s been scraped raw.
Not bleeding. Not broken. Just…overstimulated. Like every nerve is still switched on and no one’s told them where to send the signal next.
She stops just inside the doorway, towel still wrapped tight around her, hair damp and curling at the ends. Everyone freezes for half a second, like we’re waiting to see whether she’s going to bolt or detonate.
So I do the only sensible thing.
I grab the remote and say, “Right. Emergency protocol.”
She blinks at me. “What?”
“Girls’ night,” I say firmly. “Except we’re wildly underqualified and someone’s probably going to cry into a pillow. My money’s on Bones, obviously.”
Bones snorts despite himself. Ghost’s mouth twitches.
Kayla stares at me like she’s deciding whether to throw something.
I keep going.
“I’m thinking room service. Snacks. Something with melted cheese. Possibly two things with melted cheese.” I squint at the TV. “And a deeply average rom-com. Or a terrible action film with a woman who solves trauma by blowing things up. Dealer’s choice.”
“I don’t—” she starts.
“Nope,” I cut in gently. “You don’t have to decide anything right now. That’s the point.”
I hold up the room service menu like it’s a peace offering.
She hesitates.
That’s the win.
I pat the bed beside me. Not close. Not invasive. Just…available.
“Sit,” I say. “You can glare at me from here. Let me grab you a t-shirt to wear too. All that skin is so distracting.”
She huffs out a breath that might almost be a laugh and crosses the room, perching on the edge like she’s not convinced the furniture is trustworthy.
I flick through channels with exaggerated seriousness while Ghost jumps up to grab and flings a shirt at her. She pulls it on and inhales deeply.
“Okay, so we’ve got…sad kissing. Competitive cooking. Explosions. Oooh – this one looks promising. She’s in heels and firing a weapon larger than her torso.”
Kayla’s mouth twitches.
There it is.
Bones quietly takes the cue and disappears toward the door. Ghost drifts to the window. I stay.
I order enough food to feed a small army. I don’t ask what she wants. I just tick boxes that feel comforting by instinct – salty, sweet, warm, familiar. A mountain of chocolate.
Kayla pulls her knees up, hugging them loosely, towel still on like a barrier she hasn’t decided to drop yet, even with the shirt over the top.
“You’re being ridiculous,” she mutters.
“Extremely,” I agree. “It’s part of the service.”
She glances at me. “Why are you doing this?”
I don’t make it heavy.
I shrug. “Because if I don’t, you’re going to sit there and think yourself back into pieces. And I quite like you in one rather delicious piece. Like my favourite ice lolly I want to lick from head to toe.”
That gets a real laugh. Short. Rough. But real.
The food arrives. The others join us. Hatchet comes out of the bathroom and sits on one of the other beds, silent as ever.
I spread everything out across the bed like we’re twelve and hiding from responsibility.
She eats without realising she’s doing it, fingers stealing chips when she thinks I’m not looking.
The film starts. It’s awful. The dialogue makes no sense. The plot is held together by vibes and explosions.
Kayla leans back against the headboard at some point. Then, later, she leans sideways – just enough that her shoulder brushes mine.
I don’t comment.
I don’t move.
I just stay exactly where I am.
She exhales, long and shaky, and mutters, “Thank you.”
I keep my eyes on the screen. “Any time. I’m excellent at nonsense.”
And for a little while – just long enough – her world stays quiet.