New Girl in Town

Chapter 20

So this is happening. I'm not imagining it or dreaming. Jennie reaches out and pulls back her comforter, looking at me expectantly.

"Um..." I say. "If you have a sleeping bag..."

She frowns at me like I'm crazy. Oh my God. Am I being even more obvious by expecting to sleep on the floor? Shit. Shit.

"It's just sometimes other people's mattresses are too soft for my back," I say quickly, trying to cover and of course sounding like an old lady while doing it. My back?! Can I just dig a hole and hide inside it forever, please?

"Well, lie back and see," she says. "Mine's not very soft."

I do as she says because I can't object without being weird now. She's right—her mattress is firm. Her sheets and pillows, however, are soft. Lying back on the pile of pillows is like sinking into something too deeply, with no tether to pull you back.

I can't do this. I absolutely cannot sleep next to her.

"I'm really fine with a sleeping bag," I say, trying for a final, futile time.

"Do I smell or something?" Jennie asks, half-joking.

"Never mind," I say, because if she prods, I might just blurt it out.

"If you snore, it's fine," she assures me, climbing into bed and sliding her long legs under the covers. "Once I'm out, I'm out."

"Deep sleeper, huh?"

"Like the dead."

"I bet you're fun to get up in the morning," I say.

She flashes me a grin. "Jisoo once dumped me in the pool to wake me up."

"What is with you guys and throwing people in water?" I ask, thinking of the time at the lake with Kai.

"It was funny!" she protests with a hushed laugh.

She leans over and my heart stops beating because she's leaning toward me, so close I forget to breathe, but then I realize she's just reaching for the lamp on the nightstand. She switches it off, plunging us into darkness, and when she draws back, it's too slow to be anything but purposeful.

I've slept over at people's houses before. I've curled under scratchy Disney sheets next to other girls. But this is nothing like that.

Jennie is not like those other girls. She is every question I've ever had— about myself, about love, about touch. And she's in this double bed with me, tucked under covers together, nothing stopping us from touching.

My skin buzzes, but nothing happens. In the dark, I can hear her rustling next to me as she turns over onto her side. Her back's to me as she says, "Night!" like it's nothing.

"Night," I echo numbly, not knowing what to do. I lie there on my back, the covers tucked up to my chin, blinking in the dark. I stare into the darkness until my eyes adjust, until I'm almost used to it.

If I move, my entire body might just burst from the twisting ache of being so close but feeling so far away. So I just lie there, frozen between wanting and waiting, between question and answer.

She breathes softly next to me, so evenly that it has to be fake, right? But the minutes stretch, and when she lets out a gentle snore, I know she's not faking it. She did say she was a really sound sleeper.

I worked myself up over nothing. Maybe I'm really going crazy. Reading into everything.

No. No. I wasn't. This—whatever it is growing between us—it's real.