Chapter 13 Bennett
Bennett
The lot I parked in isn’t far, but is too far for Clover in this state. A few minutes later and I’m pulling up to find a Weekend at Bernie’s situation with Clover slumped over and my jacket pulled to her chin.
“Up you go,” I tell her as I wrap her arms around my neck. My Highlander is a little too tall for her, so I help her in by her waist and buckle her in.
My hands linger for a moment on her, because something in my brain just quiets when I touch her.
I park in the fire lane and walk her inside. I try to give her space at first, because I don’t want her to think I’m taking advantage of the situation, but I stay close behind her and we eventually make it to our room.
She kicks her shoes off and tumbles into bed without removing her uniform.
When I come around to see if I can convince her to get a little more comfortable, her eyes are closed, framed by furrowed brows, and her lips are curved into an exaggerated frown.
She looks like a grumpy old man. Adorably so.
“What?” she demands after I let a laugh slip.
“You just—you look so angry when you sleep. You always have.”
She huffs and pulls the blankets up even farther. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“Not making fun, I promise. Just glad to see some things haven’t changed.”
“My mom says I’m going to give myself premature wrinkles.”
I perch on the edge of her bed so that she’s curled around me, and I pull the blanket back a little. “Let’s at least get this bow tie off,” I tell her.
With her eyes closed, she makes a half-hearted attempt at unhooking the bow tie, but her fingers still a few times as she falls asleep before stirring slightly and trying again.
There’s this ferocious urge inside me to take care of her. Suddenly, Munchausen by proxy makes just a tiny bit of sense, because I like that she needs me right now.
I am a broken piece of shit.
“Let me.” Gently, I push her hand away and she tilts her chin up to give me access. I unclip the hook and pull the cheap bow tie free, undoing the first two buttons of her shirt while I’m at it.
She starts in on the buttons of her vest, but I take over for her, careful not to touch anything I shouldn’t and trying so damn hard not to imagine what she’s wearing underneath and if it’s a matching set.
By the time I’m done, I have only accidentally grazed her breast once and she’s fast asleep.
I figure that I’ll leave her be for a little while before I try to convince her to put on some pajamas.
After turning off all the lights except for my small reading lamp, I go across the hall and give Daisy and Briar’s door a knock.
Briar opens the door a moment later, her eyes wide and frantic. She’s wearing an apron with iron-on letters across the chest that spell out SAY CHEESE.
“Nice,” I tell her, and point to the apron.
“I’ve been working on branding,” she says with a dry smirk.
“Ah. You guys have a thermometer? Clover is pretty sick.”
She turns around and sifts through a few drawers on her side and then Daisy’s side.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if Daisy has, like, some sort of aesthetically pleasing first aid kit around here somewhere, but she’s out with her hockey player right now.
Let me run down the hall and poke the bear to see if he has one. ”
“The bear?”
“Our crabby-ass RA.”
“No offense,” I say. “But crabby seems to be your vibe.”
“I prefer a good chaos puppy. Creates a healthy balance.” She tosses her apron on to her bed and makes her way down the hall. “I’m pretty sure Dylan’s only kink is following rules.”
I can’t decide if it would be a good or bad idea to put Briar and Julian in the same room.
When I go back to check on Clover, she’s turned toward my side of the bed, sleeping fitfully with that same frown and furrowed brow.
After unknotting my own bow tie, I sit down beside her and smooth my thumb over her worried brows. Her forehead is warm to the touch, and Briar returns just in time with the thermometer.
“Thanks for poking the bear,” I tell her.
“He was singing ‘Build Me Up Buttercup’ to himself when I knocked, so I’m sure it’s a very busy night for him.” Briar takes a quick glance at the Clover-shaped lump on the bed. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thanks,” I say. “That’s nice of you.”
“I know,” she snarls at me. “Please don’t tell anyone.”
I hold a hand over my heart. “I would never.” Quietly, I return to our room. “Okay, sweet girl,” I say, and Clover’s frown deepens.
I smooth her hair back. I shouldn’t touch her so freely, but it feels wrong not to comfort her in some way. It just so happens that it comforts me in return.
The summer she was nine and I was ten, our moms sent us off to camp for a week.
I use the word camp loosely because this place catered to the wealthy.
The dorms were more like luxury log cabins and the activities ranged from equestrian sports to sailing to fencing.
Clover was incredibly homesick and hated being separated from me in the girls’ dorm.
One afternoon, she was stung by a swarm of bees.
She wasn’t allergic, but it was painful.
She had one sting on her lip and a few on her arms and legs.
I snuck into the girls’ dorm during afternoon activities with popsicles and a few Goosebumps books I’d found at the lending library next to the cafeteria.
We ate the popsicles, melted syrup running down our wrists, while I read her Night of the Living Dummy.
She fell asleep somewhere around the third chapter and turned on her side toward me with her arm draped over my lap.
I stayed there all afternoon tracing patterns up and down her skin, careful to not disturb the angry welts.
That wasn’t the first time or the last time that I sat with Clover while she wasn’t feeling well or was upset.
So, this current situation is nothing new.
Touching her like this feels so normal. Nothing like the frenzied show we put on in public, but also more deliberate than when I wake up with my arm wrapped around her.
“Clo,” I whisper. “I need to get your temperature.”
She moans in response but lifts her head to me. It’s like the moment someone gave her permission to give in to her body and let herself be sick, her will crumbled.
With my thumb, I pull down on her lower lip and slide the thermometer inside. “Lift your tongue for me.” She does so and I wait for the beep.
The digital numbers light up and read 102 degrees.
“I’m fine,” she says, and pulls the blanket over her mouth so I can’t check her again.
“Clo, I think you should let me take you to an urgent care clinic. That’s pretty high.”
She shakes her head and then flings the blankets off. “It’s so hot.”
Then, before I can stop her, she’s unbuttoned her pants and is shimmying them down her hips.
I’m ashamed to say I take an inventory of the little black boy shorts she’s wearing underneath and the way her adorable tummy curves at the waistline.
She kicks her feet, knotting the pants around her ankles, and huffs. “Off,” she moans.
“Okay, okay,” I tell her, and help untwist the pants before draping them over her desk chair.
I dig around in my desk for any kind of medicine and come up with a small travel bottle of Tylenol.
After giving her two and encouraging her to drink as much water as she can handle, I say, “I’m going to check your temperature again in thirty minutes and if it’s still this high, we’re going to urgent care. ”
“I can go to the student health center tomorrow,” she mumbles. “But no urgent care. It’s too expensive.”
Fuck. I hadn’t even thought of that. Or honestly even realized that they were expensive, but it doesn’t matter. “Don’t worry about how much it costs.”
“No. No way.”
I don’t fight her, because it’s not like she could stop me.
“Get some rest,” I tell her as I set a timer for thirty minutes.
I scroll through a few texts from the guys after I didn’t return to our table.
JULIAN
Uh, were you abducted?
Sweetie. Your father and I just want to know you’re safe.
TEX
seriously tho where did you go? This chick is asking for you.
JULIAN
This definitely has to do with Clover.
Please say you’re not texting back because you’re reaping those marital benefits.
You owe me, btw. The level of bland small talk I was subjected to likely caused a brain tumor. The minute you left Lacey decided that you were the only interesting person at this thing and she’s been watching herself in the reverse camera of her phone for 30 min
Tex went home with a 34 year old mommy
TEX
Lindsay is not a mother.
JULIAN
A mommy is different from a mother
TEX
We’re just laying in bed talking
JULIAN
is talking code for something else?
Tex?
!!!!!!!!!!!!
Sorry for disappearing, I type. The time stamp on the last message was twenty minutes ago.
BENNETT
Clover wasn’t feeling well
JULIAN
It’s fine. Except they had a 2 drink max at dinner. Do you know how many people asked me what I was majoring in?
BENNETT
Do YOU even know what you’re majoring in?
JULIAN
I just declared my major actually. Early childhood ed
BENNETT
Wasn’t that girl you were talking to last Friday doing a teaching practicum at the elementary school?
JULIAN
I was inspired.
TEX
Inspired by the two days he spent with his head between her legs.
JULIAN
As the only living queer person in the Graves family tree, it’s my duty to uphold the stereotype of slutty bisexual.
BENNETT
Heavy is the head that wears the crown.
J, I might need you to run to a pharmacy for me
JULIAN
At your service. I’m already in bed wearing my overnight collagen mask, so please know that it will be a sacrifice
BENNETT
noted