“Yes. And then I’ll move out and you can bring in someone who won’t mess up your stuff and hide it from you and who will clean everything perfectly.”
“I didn’t ask you to move in here because I wanted some expert cleaner. I invited you to stay because I liked you and you seemed like you needed the help.”
Why did he have to be so wonderful? “That is so much worse!” I sniffed. “Do you hate me?”
His hand moved to my shoulder. “Madison.”
I didn’t move.
“Look at me,” he said gently. I shook my head. I wanted to screw my eyelids shut even tighter. I couldn’t bear how often I had deceived him. “Madison.”
Sighing, I relented. I opened my eyes and there was so much goodness in his gaze I wanted to start crying again.
“I could never hate you.”
“But I lied to you. About Brad, about cleaning, about your things I ruined.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I understand why you did it. I know you felt desperate that day and desperation can drive people to do crazy things. Come here.”
Then he pulled my arm up until he was hugging me. This felt so good, so right. I knew he was only being friendly, but this was where I wanted to be. In his arms. He felt like home. Not the horrible one I’d grown up in, but the one I’d always imagined for myself, where I would be safe, loved, and happy.
Resting my head against his shoulder, I let him soothe me. He stroked my hair and it was wonderful.
“I’ve felt so awful. I wanted to tell you everything but I was afraid.”
“I’m glad you told me now.” There was a beat and then he asked, “So what did happen with the couch?”
I explained how I’d cut my hand and that I thought I was supposed to use bleach to clean up blood, which I was kicking myself for. I should have looked it up online instead of blindly panicking. How Pigeon had bumped into my arm and the bottle had spilled and that I’d tried my best to keep her away from the bleach. “I didn’t know if it could hurt her. And I don’t know how much the couch costs, but I’ll pay you back.”
“Don’t worry about it. It sounds like it was partly Pidge’s fault anyway and she’s my responsibility.”
“No, I should contribute.”
“You do contribute,” he said, his voice sounding low and serious. “In more ways than you know.”
This was no time for me to try and search for hidden subtext. “I mean, I need to pay you back for replacing it.”
“You’re not going to sell your purse,” he told me. “So forget about that.” He even took the bag out of my hands, as if I were going to run to my computer and post it on some auction website. “If it’s that important to you, we can work out a payment plan. Later. When your budget involves less dragon’s blood purchases.”
That made me laugh through my tears. “How do you do that?” I asked. “Make me feel like everything’s going to be okay?”
His mouth was against the top of my head and I both felt and heard his words. “Because everything is going to be okay.”
“You’re not going to kick me out?”
“No! Why would you even think that?” His arms tightened around me. “This is your home, too. And I’m so glad you moved in. It’s hard to remember a time when you weren’t part of my life, and even though we came together under some unusual circumstances, I’m really grateful for you.”
That made my heavy-laden and exhausted heart practically sing with glee. “Me too. I mean, not that I’m grateful for me, but I’m so glad that we’re . . . roommates.”
“Friends,” he corrected me.
I wanted him to be right. I wanted everything to be okay.
I should have known better.
A new couch arrived quickly and they took away the old, bleach- and blood-stained one. The new couch was exactly the same as the old one. I figured Tyler must have called his decorator, but when I asked him how much it had cost, he just waved his hand and wouldn’t tell me.
He did help me finish the snowfall decorations and he jokingly refused to let me handle the razor and cut all the fishing wire himself.
Then the day of the winter festival arrived and my next pressing issue became how to transport all these stupid fluffy poms. He suggested sticking them in giant trash bags.
The method concerned me. “But that might kill the fluff.”
“Then we’ll have to re-fluff them.”
Once we got them into the trash bags it was obvious that there was no way they would all fit in my car. Even if we did squish them.
He said, “We’ll stuff your car full and then we’ll put the rest into mine. I’m going to grab some things to help set them up and I’ll meet you there.”
We got my car loaded up and I waved goodbye to him. Delia and Shay, despite their other responsibilities, had agreed to show up early to help me decorate. For the past week I’d had recess duty while they’d been scheduled to cover lunchtime. We hadn’t had a chance to really sit down and talk since the Brad blowout. They had no idea Tyler and I had kissed.
I pulled into the school parking lot, wondering how exactly I should break the news. Wondering if they might be mad that I hadn’t told them yet. Although I should have learned my lesson by now about being distracted, I somehow managed to get out of my car and lock it shut, leaving my keys in the ignition.
With all the poms inside.
“No!” Why did this stuff always seem to happen to me?
Leaning my forehead against the cold car frame, I called Shay. “I’m in the parking lot and I locked my keys in the car.”
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
True to her word, she arrived quickly. I’d hoped she’d know some magical trick, but she only looked worried. “Do you have an extra set of keys?”
I did, but they were back at the apartment somewhere. In my dresser? My nightstand? I couldn’t remember where I’d put them.
Delia came up behind us. “What’s going on?”
“Madison’s keys locked her out of the car.”
This caused Delia to reach inside her big bag and pull out a long rectangular piece of metal. “I’ve got this.”
She had the door unlocked in less than half a minute.
Shay and I just gaped at her.
“What?” she asked.
“How do you know how to do that?”
At the same time Shay said, “It’s always the quiet ones.”
I made sure to get my keys and they helped me grab all the trash bags. We brought everything inside the gym. The other decorations were on par with any formal event my mother had ever thrown. Christmas trees lined the walls, white lights twinkling softly. Dark-blue tablecloths with pine cone and pine branch centerpieces were set up throughout the room with silver plates and pale-blue linen napkins. A string quartet was warming up in the far corner.
I suddenly felt very bad about the things that I had created. Somehow I’d imagined this would be geared more toward children. With, like, homemade snowflakes or candy canes made out of pool noodles. I felt underdressed in my red sweater and jeans. Shay and Delia both had on casual dresses, but they were still more dressed up than me.