“Oh. Okay. Yeah.” I quickly washed the plate and glass before following him. Standing in the doorway, I unbuttoned my shirt, then smelled my sweat wafting free, sharper and nastier than I’d ever been. Embarrassment heated my face. “I can’t. I’m not clean.”
“Huh?”
“I smell like a barn.”
“I don’t mind barns.”
“Worse. Like a high school boys’ locker room after gym class.”
Seth wrinkled his prominent nose. “Okay, you have a point. Want a shower?”
“Oh God.” I clamped a hand over my mouth to hold back more words and nodded hard. I was so sick of being dirty after five days on the road.
Seth pointed. “The other door to the left. The blue towel is mine, but there’s others on the rack. Feel free to use myshampoo, if you can stand Head & Shoulders on your pretty—” He stopped short. “Use whatever you like.”
On your pretty…I retreated with those words dancing in my head.
The bathroom was compact, with a toilet, a shallow sink in a tiny vanity, and a shower stall, but it felt like a bit of heaven. A nightlight shaped like a seashell glowed in the electric socket and I didn’t turn on more light. I didn’t need to see myself right now. I used the john as the water in the shower warmed, then stripped off my dirty clothes and stepped under the spray.
A hot shower after days without was the definition of bliss. I lathered up with the bar soap I found on the shower ledge, suds stinging in my ass-crack where days bundled in layers had left my skin irritated. A good thing Seth wasn’t expecting anything from me. The thought reminded me of that truck driver and I shuddered, wrenching my mind back to the present.
Get clean. Get some sleep.The pleasure of food in my belly let me feel my exhaustion creeping higher.
I sluiced water over myself, giving my hands and nails an extra rub, then washed my hair. The dandruff shampoo scent rocked me in some weird way, familiar and practical, in a world turned upside down. I dug my fingers into my scalp, breathing that smell, and then rinsed well.
It was only when I got out, reaching for the smaller gray towel, that I stared down at my heap of dirty clothes and realized my problem. Out in the entry, I had a clean pair of shorts in my jacket pocket. In here? I sniffed and discarded the T-shirt and waffle-knit I’d sweated through. The button-up flannel I’d worn over them wasn’t fresh but wasn’t offensive. I slipped it on, wrapped the towel around my waist, eased out of the bathroom, and padded quietly to the door. The first pocket I tried was the wrong one—
“Where are you going?”
I jumped, whirled, and lost the towel. “Fuck! Sorry.” I scrambled to get my junk covered again. “I have clean shorts in my parka.” I dug them out of the other pocket and waved them like a dark-blue flag of surrender.
“Ah.” Seth leaned on his bedroom doorframe. “Okay, sure. I should probably lend you some sweatpants. I keep the cabin cool at night.”
“I’m fine,’ I told him. “As soon as I, um.” I jiggled the cotton boxer-briefs in a totally dorky way. “In the bathroom.” Turning tail, I scurried back in and closed the door before dropping the towel and pulling on my underwear. I wanted to scrub out my dirty things in the sink, but Seth probably didn’t want my laundry hanging about, so I stuffed them in a corner, as small as I could make the pile with the T-shirt wrapped around them. I had no idea what I’d wear tomorrow, but I had to get through tonight first.
When I came out, Seth was waiting for me with a pair of gray fleece pants. “Here. Put these on. You’ve been close enough to freezing already and that shirt isn’t going to do the job.”
When I hesitated, he tossed them to me. “Get into those now, so we can both go to bed.”
“Oh. Sorry.” I pulled the pants on, appreciating the warmth despite them being loose around my waist. I found the drawstring and tightened it. “These are great. Thank you.”
Seth sighed. “Let’s get some sleep. Morning chores come early.”
He led the way to the bed and got in. I slipped under the covers on the other side, sighing at the comfort of a real mattress, then realized… “My hair’s wet. Your pillow—”
“Will survive. Lie down.” Seth reached over and nudged my shoulder. “Get some sleep.” He clicked off his bedside light, dropping the room into darkness.
I stretched out, closed my eyes… and couldn’t sleep. I hadn’t shared a bed with anyone since fourth grade, when Daniel’s mom put three of us in a queen-sized at his sleepover. I wasn’t a skinny ten-year-old now, and every time I moved, the covers rustled, the mattress shifted. I froze, trying not to disturb Seth, focused on not breathing too loud, not wiggling or coughing, staying still though my hip ached.
Two nights of fitful sleep in the barn and days of cat-napping in Tilly between calisthenics to keep warm had worn me to the bone, but I couldn’t drop off. I wondered if Seth had managed. He wasn’t snoring, wasn’t moving much either.
What if he couldn’t sleep with me in the bed? Would it be polite to move out to that loveseat? I could surely make myself fit, and the cushions and warmth would still be better than the barn. Probably I should get up. Or make the offer.
Seth sighed. “Kid, I can feel you panicking from here.”
“I’m not panicking. I just don’t want to keep you awake. I’ve never slept with anyone before.” I hurriedly added, “Slept-slept, not sex, I mean.” I hadn’t done much in the sex department either, but I wasn’t about to tell Seth that.
“It’s not rocket science. You close your eyes and let go.”
