Me: Get me some too?
Henrik: Three.
Lincoln: Consider it done.
I pushed out of my bed and exited my room. There was no point in chasing sleep with Sam testing the bounds of his stamina. I did my best to keep my footsteps light as I headed down the stairs. The girl’s moans mixed with Sam’s muffled words followed me down into the foyer. I wanted to be more annoyed but honestly, I felt jealous. Lonely, too.
The kitchen was empty and semi-lit from a lamp in the adjacent living room. I paused in the doorway when I saw Naomi sitting on the living room floor, surrounded by hordes of craft supplies. I haven’t had a one-on-one conversation with her IRL since our exchange in my van. That was a week ago. We’d become experts at using the guys as buffers. She did it because she’d given up on getting to know me. I did it because I wanted to practice talking to less intimidating people.
For the past few days, I’ve gone out of my way to interact with people other than my friends. Approached teammates, classmates, and even a few random people at the student center. With each conversation, I pushed myself to figure out how to keep the words flowing. And how to be less… grumpy sounding, as Lincoln would put it. It wasn’t easy and never felt natural. I was getting the hang of it, though. And now, I needed to put what I’d been practicing to the test.
It’s just like hockey, I tried to pump myself up.Not going to be perfect until you flub it up a few times.
With a deep breath and a quick run of my fingers through my hair, I moved closer. Naomi looked up at the sound of my feet on the floor. The small smile on her face didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Hey.” She straightened her back, so she wasn’t leaning over whatever she’d been making.
I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “Hi.”
Silence—save for my racing heart. Naomi stared up at me and I stared back. When she started chewing on her lip, I asked, “Couldn’t sleep either?”
“No… um… Got some stuff on my mind and there’s, you know.” She gestured upstairs.
“Yeah.” I nodded and moved a little closer. “Do you mind if I sit?”
Naomi’s eyes widened. She scrambled, trying to clear up space on the floor for me. “Oh, yeah, go for it.”
I claimed a spot next to her on the rug. There were a good couple of feet in-between us, but I could still smell her floral scent. She wore a robe that was tied tight enough to highlight the curve of her waist. There was length to the fabric, but not enough to hide her legs. I urged myself to focus on what she’d been doing and not think about untying the bow holding the fabric shut.
“Are you…” I’d been going to fill in my own blank but couldn’t manage to once I got a glimpse of the material on the ground. I couldn’t figure out what she was making exactly.
There was a towel rolled out on the floor. On top of it, she’d lined up colorful balls of clay. Sharp instruments and flat pieces of glass were scattered around the towel edges. Some objects looked like cookie cutters, shaped like hearts and diamonds. At the head of the towel sat a half-painted crate. The wood looked old even with the sage paint doing its best to brighten it up.
“Making something?” I finished.
“Jewelry.” She nodded, eyes shining a little as she reached for her phone. “I’m trying to make something like this for my friend.”
I leaned in when Naomi turned her phone to me. She moved closer, knees pointed in my direction.
“It’s nice.” I nodded, taking in the bear earrings. There were chunky brown circles layered on top of one another to create the friendly-looking creature. “Have you done something like this before?”
“I do it all the time,” she said. “Usually when I’m having problems sleeping—which is why you’ve probably seen a ton of aluminum foil lying around.”
I had, but I assumed it’d been the guys leaving their stuff out like usual.
“How does the crate fit into the gift?” I wondered.
She waved a dismissive hand in its direction. “That’s my door stopper. I’m trying to make it look cute. My weakness is making my surroundings as cute as possible.”
“Doorstopper?” My eyebrows wrinkled.
“I don’t have a lock.” She shrugged. “And the door swings open if nothing's blocking it.”
I frowned. “Have you told the Ables? I’m sure they’d fix it.”
“I have, but I think they forgot.” She shook her head. “It’s not a big deal. Not like the window on the front door or the issues with the toilet upstairs. Those take priority.”
“They still should fix it,” I insisted. Having a door that locked would make anyone feel more comfortable. Especially someone who was living with four guys. None of us posed a threat to Naomi, of course. But that small bit of security could go a long way in helping her feel like she had a safe space at the end of the day.
