Brookside Academy

5 - Slippery Slope

By the time we've finished our food, I'm tired out. So, I say a quick good night to everyone, and they murmur their acknowledgment. Well, except for one glaring exception.

I grab my bag from where I left it in the foyer and run up the stairs to the far bedroom. When I open the heavy wooden door though, there's paint buckets everywhere, some power tools, and a lot of sawdust. Clearly there are some renovations going on. However, there's only three bedrooms in the guest house. Now I have to sleep on the couch. I don't sleep on couches. I have enough back problems from years of ballet lessons. This is wonderful.

I come back downstairs to take my place on the couch, and call out to Will. "Hey, did you forget there's a bunch of renovation going on in the far room upstairs?" but I'm met with silence from the living room. I keep walking past the staircase, and realize the only person sitting in the living room is Bennett.

"Oh shit, sorry, thought you were Will." I start to go back upstairs, but I'm interrupted.

"He went to the downstairs bedroom with Ryan. And, your room is being renovated? Were you going to sleep on the couch?"

"Mhm. It's no big deal."

"You hate sleeping on the couch." Why does he even care?

"I'll deal."

"It hurts your back, right?"

"Yeah. Now get out of the way." This conversation is awkward, and neither of us are particularly happy about having it.

"I'll sleep down here, you go to the other bedroom upstairs."

"I can't ask you to do that."

"Not asking, offering. There's a difference."

"And I'm declining your offer. Why are you being so nice? Did you get some brain eating bacteria in the water?"

He rolls his eyes. "I just don't want you complaining that your back hurts all of this trip. You're extremely overdramatic, you know?"

"I'll be fine."

"Stop being stubborn and take the bed before I rescind my offer." He twists his black watch around his wrist, and I can tell his patience is wearing thin.

"I don't want it. Final answer." He huffs dramatically, and takes my bag from the floor where I had dropped it. "We're doing this the hard way." He holds it above his head as he walks to the staircase, and the nine inches he has over me means I can't grab it from him, so I'm left to chase him up the stairs in an extremely humiliating way. When we're upstairs, he opens the door across the hall and throws my bag onto the bed. He smirks at me and goes back to the doorframe to leave.

Before he's out in the hallway, Ben turns back toward me, and teasingly says, "Good night," with an overdramatic bow. He's taunting me, but I'm too tired to fight back. When he's out of sight, I close the door behind him and change into my pajamas. I knew I was tired, but I didn't realize it was this bad. As soon as my head hits the pillow, I'm out. I hate conceding to Ben, but at least the bed is comfy.

•••

I wake up to sun shining through the window and my eyesight filled with those little dust particles that always get illuminated by the sunlight. I check the clock beside me.

11 in the morning. I'm a morning person, even when I'm still vaguely jet lagged, so seeing that time on the clock is a bit jarring. It was a good sleep though, so I suppose I can't complain. I hear the overlapping voices of my friends (and Ben) downstairs, and I quickly brush my teeth. I take a quick glance in the mirror. My shirt from Taylor Swift's reputation tour and some gray sweatpants I've had since middle school are my go to pajamas, and while I don't look awful, I'm definitely not Miss America.