Chapter 9 Play by the Rules…of the Game, I Mean #3
Half an hour later, Sierra and I are lying on her bunk bed, which I’m starting to realize was most definitely not made to fit two people.
We’re not touching, but her hips are only one simple movement away from mine, and I’m increasingly aware that if I were to take my eyes off the ceiling and turn my head just an inch, the two of us would be nose to nose.
We’re already in each other’s personal space, but I should probably get up before I accidentally do touch her and things between us turn uncomfortable.
Still, I don’t move. I’m not ready to leave this moment.
Something about being so physically close to her feels…
vulnerable, almost. Like we’re sharing the same little bubble.
I can’t bring myself to pop it just yet.
We’ve been quiet for some time now, but then Sierra’s voice breaks through the silence.
“How did you get into Iris Blackwell’s videos?
” she asks softly. The question is so sudden, I can’t help but wonder what she’s been thinking about to lead her to this.
“I mean, she’s known within queer circles, of course, but I never hear other people talk about her,” Sierra adds.
If I could, I’d shrug, but I don’t want to risk crossing the thin, invisible line between us.
“I don’t know. The algorithm just…brought her to me one day, and I happened to click on the video,” I say truthfully.
“Looking back, it’s as if YouTube knew I was autistic and decided I needed to be educated on it before I even got diagnosed.
” I laugh, the sound merging with that of the door to cabin 4 suddenly swinging open.
Immediately I straighten my back, putting space between us with such speed that Sloane and Veronica might think Sierra’s touch has burned me.
I don’t even know why I do it. It’s not as if being in Sierra’s bed is some sin they’ve caught me in, yet heat still rises to my cheeks as the two of them look at me.
I can’t read their faces, but since when have I been any good at that? They just stand there, wet hair dripping on the towels they’ve wrapped around their necks, eyes on me and Sierra, who’s still lying flat on her back.
“Did you go for a swim?” I quickly ask, as if that isn’t obvious.
They both nod at the same time, not responding verbally to my dumb question.
Nobody says anything until Sierra clears her throat and announces, “I’m going to take a quick shower.
” She gets out of her bunk bed, skipping the last two steps of the ladder and instead making a tiny jump.
The sound of her feet landing on the floor finally bursts through my bubble.
For a second I consider following Sierra’s example but decide against it for the fantastic reason that leaving her bed would draw attention to the fact that it is not my bed I’m sitting on right now.
As if Sloane and Veronica don’t already know that.
The moment the door to the bathroom closes behind Sierra, Sloane turns to me with wide, eager eyes. “Listen, Ellie. We need to debrief. Right. Now.”
My heart stops for a second, then continues beating way too fast. My being in Sierra’s bed really isn’t that weird, right?
And even if it were, there’s a 99 percent chance she can still hear us talking through the thin walls and the sound of the shower, so can’t this “debrief” wait just a little longer?
I shift on Sierra’s bed as I anxiously wait for Sloane to continue, but then my muscles relax when she elaborates, “There are some groundbreaking updates regarding the Liam-and-Veronica situation.”
Veronica rolls her eyes at that as I try not to sigh in relief. “I’m right here, you know,” she says, and then she sits down on her bed, seemingly not caring that she’s making her own sheets wet by doing so.
I look between the two teammates, my eyes switching from Veronica to Sloane to Veronica. “What’s going on?” I ask, eventually settling on holding eye contact with Sloane.
“Okay, so,” she starts her ramble, “a few of us were swimming, right? It’s literally so hot outside, which…
actually, you know that already. But the point is that Veronica didn’t want to join us in the water, and then Liam, of all people, convinced her to jump in.
” A smile has started to creep up her face, and her eyes almost seem to ask me, Can you believe it? , which I definitely can’t.
I look back to Veronica, intrigued. Of course I hoped the two of them would fix things, but this is way beyond my expectations. “What happened there?” I ask.
She groans, getting back up and starting to walk through our small room. As she paces, Veronica explains, “He apologized for being an asshole, and ever since, we’ve just been ranting together about the people we hate back home.” She shrugs. “Simple as that.”
“Ah,” I say as the puzzle pieces fall right into place. “Of course.”
She stops her pacing to look at me. “Now what’s that supposed to mean?”
This time, I’m the one who shrugs. “Just that bonding through hatred makes a lot of sense for the two of you,” I explain.
Sloane nods, the shock washing right off her face. “Yeah. Now that I think of it, Veronica and Liam might have been destined to become grumpy kindred spirits from the start.”
“Soulmates,” I add, and the two of us start laughing.
We laugh at our jokes until my jaw hurts and we don’t exactly know if the jokes are really what we’re laughing at anymore.
It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except this feeling: a pure, uncomplicated kind of joy.
But then the sound gets muffled by the pillows that suddenly hit our faces.
“That was smooth,” Sloane gasps as she looks at Veronica, who I didn’t even notice had picked up pillows to throw at us. “Very impressive,” she adds, and Veronica smirks.
“I try.”
“In all seriousness, though,” Sloane says, even though she’s still laughing a bit, “I’m really glad you and Liam fixed things. I guess our friend group is finally complete now that you guys are friends, too.”
And even though I get what Sloane means by this, I can’t help but correct her. “Almost,” I tell her, and I can see her smile at me right before my gaze wanders to the closed bathroom door. “We’re almost complete.”