I imagine what that entails and instantly regret it. I clear my throat and try to redirect my thoughts. “At least I know where that wet dog smell is coming from now.”
“Wet dog?” She snorts. “I smell like beach breeze, thank you very much. Not that you’re one to judge. You reek of perfume, and there’s lipstick all over your collar. Do I even want to know what you were doing before you snuck in here?”
I tug at my shirt so I can get a look. Sure enough, there’s a red stain on it. There’s only one person I’ve talked totonight with lips that bright. How did Ava get close enough to get lipstick on me? Probably when she was yelling in my ear about our responsibilities as the heads of student government. This looks much worse than it really is. I could easily explain the misunderstanding, but it’s more fun to see her flustered. I smirk at Ella. “Jealous?”
“You wish.”
“Your loss.” I shrug and then unbutton my shirt, starting with the top.
“What are you doing?” Ella takes a few steps back. “I thought we just established that I’m not interested.”
“Relax. I thought I’d use the bathroom sink as a washing machine, too.” I wouldn’t have even considered it, but looking at Ella’s dress, I don’t see any evidence of a juice stain. Whatever she did worked. I don’t want people to think I was making out with anyone tonight. Washing it before going back out there seems like a great idea.
“But you’re getting naked.” Her cheeks are bright red.
“I’m not getting naked. I’m taking off my shirt. You see more at practice. Grow up, Adams.”
She avoids looking at me as I finish unbuttoning the front and pull my arms out from the sleeves. I walk into the bathroom and turn the hot water on. My fingers dance in the running water while it heats up. I spy the hand soap on the edge of the sink. Beach breeze. I smile as Ella’s earlier words echo in my head and put a few squirts on the collar of my shirt.
“You don’t need that much soap,” Ella says from behind me.
I hadn’t heard her walk in. I don’t look at her when I say, “Okay.”
“And you should really be using cold water.”
I spin around and narrow my eyes. That doesn’t make sense. Hotter is always better when it comes to cleaning stuff, isn’t it?
“The hot water will only melt the lipstick and make it stain. If you gently pat it under cold water, you should remove enough until you get home and can use a stain remover.”
I stare at her blankly.
Ella sighs and sticks out her hand. “Give it to me.” When I hesitate, she reaches out and grabs it. “The sooner we get this clean, the sooner you’ll cover yourself up.”
“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy this.” I flex a little.
“Please don’t keep doing that unless you’re willing to hold my hair back while I puke.” There’s a bite to her words, but the pink on her cheeks hasn’t gone away.
She turns the faucet until cold water comes out and carefully puts the collar of the shirt under it. I watch over Ella’s shoulder. She’s careful with the fabric as her fingers meticulously work on the stain. After a couple of minutes, it looks much better than it did. She turns the water off and thrusts the shirt in my hands. “Put it back on.”
I open my mouth to make a suggestive comment to her, but she’s already walked out of the bathroom and back into Hardy’s bedroom. The shirt is wet and cold around the neck, but at least it’s not soaking. Once I finish buttoning it up, I follow Ella out.
She’s got her arms wrapped around herself, and I catch a small shiver.
“Are you cold?”
She looks up at me. “What do you care?”
“I don’t.” But she was nice to me just now. I feel like it’s the decent thing to ask. Not that I have anything to offer her but my shirt, and she insists that she doesn’t want to see me shirtless. My eyes go to Hardy’s closet. I don’t have anything to offer Ella, but I bet he does. “If I did care, I would say you could probably grab a hoodie from there.” I jerk my head toward the closet.
She looks at Hardy’s closet, then to me, and back to the closet. There’s a pause before she says, “Only because he’s my friend, and I think he’d offer. Not because you suggested it.”
I lift my hands in surrender. “Of course not.”
She glares at me before opening the door. I’m surprised at how orderly everything looks. All of Hardy’s shirts are on hangers and seem to be organized by style. I would have never pegged him for that guy.
Ella finds a Citrus Prep lacrosse hoodie just like one I have in my closet and pulls it over her head. It’s so big, I can barely see the bottom hem of her dress. A corner of my mouth tugs down in a frown as a strange thought pops into my head:It should be my hoodie.
Ella puts a hand on her hip. “Can I leave now?”
