“You mean how we snuggle?” Kitty laughed.
“Yes, that’s what I always think of! We’re just like those skeletons tucked into each other,” I said, smiling at her.
“Wouldn’t be a bad way to go,” she said. “All at once. Just covered in ash. I mean, it was actually probably scary. I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”
“But with someone you love,” I added, folding our hands between us. “Wouldn’t be so bad at all.”
Kitty’s expression turned more serious, not meeting my eyes. I wondered if she was thinking about us being something more, fulfilling our promise to Maman and growing old together. I wanted to see if her lips were as soft as I remembered. But her eyes started to drift shut, so I reached over to my desk and turned off the light.
“Goodnight, my fellow skeleton,” I said, kissing her forehead.
“Goodnight, Guy-Guy.”
* * *
In the morning, Kitty was up before me. She was the unfortunate soul to go in the bathroom after Mikey, which was bad on a non-drinking day and heinous after a night of drinking. When I realized what was happening, I tried to stop her. It was too late. I ran into Mikey in the kitchen.
“So, your girl stayed over. You never do that,” Mikey said with a quirked eyebrow.
“She’s not my girl. Nothing happened.”
“She’s not your girl, but you went to her improv show, left a party to help her with her homework, and let her stay over.”
“It’s not like that. We’re old friends,” I said, but again not reallysure if that’s what I wanted going forward. Mikey was right. I didn’t let girls stay over. I usually went to their place and left as soon as it was socially acceptable. I didn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.
I wasn’t boyfriend material. I hit and quit. I made it well-known. I always treated my partners right and made sure they had a good time, but I’d be gone just as soon as it was decent to go.
Kitty, on the other hand, had stayed over twice in less than a week. And the thing was, I wanted her to stay over more. I liked having her around, having our old rhythm back. Everything was so easy with Kitty. She didn’t expect me to be a stud for her, nor did she treat my French-ness like a novelty or fetish. She knew the real me, and she loved me for it. She’d seen my lowest moments and loved me through them. I’d also had some of the hardest laughs in my life with her.
“Jesus Christ, Michael,” Kitty said when she came out of the bathroom, her shirt over her nose. “You might want to get that checked out.”
“My name’s not Michael. It’s Ben Miknevicius,” Mikey objected. “And my doctor says I’m in perfect health, thank you very much.”
“You hockey boys and your fucking nicknames,” she laughed, heading back to my bedroom.
I watched after her, struggling to wipe the smile from my face.
Chapter 10
Kitty
“Um, excuse me. Whose sweatshirt is that?”
Violet and I met in the dining hall for breakfast before class on Thursday. Violet was my favorite roommate. We were lucky to be in a suite of singles at Alden. Of the four girls, Violet and I clicked the most. Her features were striking: piercing blue eyes, perfect full dark brows, olive skin, and gleaming chestnut hair. We first connected over our youthful shared love of One Direction and our disdain over certain slang terms. We could be found in each other’s presence often.
I was a little low on sleep since Guy and I had stayed up so late talking.
“You can read. Whose name is on the back?” Guy had sent me home in his Alden hockey sweatshirt with STELLE 23 printed on the back. I noticed more people staring at me than usual in the dining hall.
Violet lowered her voice. “You fucked Guy Stelle last night? That’s why you didn’t come home?”
I laughed. “We didn’t fuck. He’s my oldest friend here. He helped me with my math and then it was late, so I stayed over.”
“You’re telling me you shared a bed with the infamous G-Spot?!”
I popped a bite of bagel in my mouth. “Is that what they call him here? Pretty clever nickname. His last name means ‘spot’ and his first name starts with a G.”
“And I’m pretty sure he’s a talented lover, French and everything,” Violet said, wiggling her eyebrows.
