He immediately shifts. ‘Use my charger.’
‘No, no, it’s fine – I couldn’t possibly–’
‘I insist,’ he says, sitting up now, holding the charger out to me.
I give him a tense smile. ‘Thank you. The camp will be… so happy to hear my music.’
‘And just imagine how well you’ll sleep,’ he adds, sounding very satisfied.
My phone comes back to life, the screen temporarily blinding me. I open Spotify and type in ‘organ music’ and click on the firstplaylist that comes up. Mentally, I cross my fingers, scroll down to a random song and press it.
The sound of a soft organ starts playing quietly and honestly, I’m not sure what the fuck to do with myself.
‘You like it on maximum volume, you said.’ He sounds like he’s trying not to laugh. ‘Don’t hold back on my account, please.’
‘No, no, we have neighbours,’ I whisper. ‘I don’t want to be a nuisance.’
‘Don’t feel bad – you’re right, it’s very soothing. Turn it up. Like you normally do.’
My whole body tenses as I push the volume up to maximum and the somber music fills the tent. It is horrifically loud. It’s also not relaxing in the slightest.
I cover my mouth to hold in my laughter as the sounds of the organ seem to get louder and louder. I think Elliotislaughing.
‘It’s lovely,’ he says, his voice shaking. ‘I’m going to sleep really well, I think.’
‘You’d be surprised–’ I say, just as the songexplodes,the sound of multiple organs hits the tent all at once with a terrifying boom. I feel the suddenness of it in my bones, like a jump scare in a horror film.
I can hold my laughter in no longer, and it falls out of me all at once in a desperate wheeze. Tears gather in the corners of my eyes when I realise with relief that Elliot is laughing too, the mattress shaking under us as he tries to catch his breath.
I relent and reach for my phone, turning the volume all the way back down.
‘Oh no,’ he says in a broken voice. ‘I was looking forward to the singalong.’
‘That stays between me and God,’ I whisper.
‘Shut up, what the fuck?’ a distant voice shouts, making us fall apart into fresh laughter.
By the time we pull ourselves together, I don’t feel quite as uncomfortable lying next to him. His head pops up suddenly.
‘Shit, sorry – you don’t even have a pillow. Let me get you something, hang on.’
‘Don’t worry, I’m fine.’ I’m amused by his level of panic. ‘My head isn’t going to fall off.’
‘No, you can’t sleep without a pillow.’ His voice is muffled as he searches in the darkness for something. ‘That’s insane.’
A puff of laughter escapes me. ‘Yeah,that’swhat’s insane.’
Strange warmth spreads through my chest at his concern as he continues to root around for God-knows-what.
Eventually he hands me a t-shirt stuffed with something. I eye it with skepticism.
‘What’s inside this? Not… your pants?’
He shakes his head incredulously. ‘Christ, give me some credit, Nora. It’s a spare couple of tops in there. I wouldn’t make you sleep with your face on mypants.’
‘Alright, alright. Worth checking.’
I lay my head on my freshly created pillow and make myself comfortable as Elliot crawls back onto the mattress carefully.
