was enough.) But in my sleeping cocoon, after we’d said good night and Ruby’s breathing slowed, I felt better. I clutched my phone in lieu of the ragged teddy bear I pretended was only decorative, reading through text threads with Ronni and my mom and Jamie to remind myself I was still me, and in the morning I would go home.
Now it was 6:41, and I had to be at the tournament, ready to play. I’d heard footsteps descending the stairs when I first woke up, and now ambient TV and kitchen sounds drifted up from the first floor. I slithered out of my sleeping bag, tiptoeing out of the room and into Ruby’s bathroom around the corner, which revealed itself to be the second most glamorous bathroom I’d ever seen in my life, both within the last twelve hours. The towels were plush and a creamy, impractical off-white. There were weird spiky sprigs of dried plants arranged in rose-gold vases on the glass shelves, which also held a number of lotions and creams and other mysterious liquids, all neatly arranged. There wasn’t even one water spot on the mirror. I was afraid to touch anything, but I was more afraid of showing up to my game unshowered, smelling like liquor and hormones. I retrieved a spare towel as delicately as if it were booby-trapped, and stripped out of last night’s outfit. I held my hand under the showerhead (perfect water pressure) until the temperature was right, and then I stepped in. I luxuriated in flicking open each of Ruby’s several shampoos and conditioners and body soaps and sniffing their contents. Unable to choose, I made blends of all three.
By the time I got out, my butt and back were bright pink, and the mirror fully fogged. Reluctantly, I got dressed in the clothes I’d thrown on the floor. I found toothpaste and squeezed some onto my finger, my makeshift toothbrush, and snuck back into Ruby’s room. Her back was facing me, and I assumed she was still asleep, but when I got closer she murmured, “You smell good,” which scared the shit out of me.
She turned over in bed, peering at me through smeared black eyeliner. “You took a shower already?”
“Yeah. Sorry. I wake up early.”
She lifted her phone from her nightstand and laughed. “Wow. No kidding.”
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s fine,” she said. I was still standing three feet from her bed, unsure what to do with myself. I couldn’t get back into my bag, but Ruby made no signs of getting up either. “I’ll get up,” she said, but she didn’t move.
“No, no,” I said. “I’ve gotta get to my tournament soon anyway.”
“Oh right,” she said.
I couldn’t stand it anymore. I sat at the foot of her bed. In response she stretched out her leg so it grazed my thigh through the blankets. We smiled at each other, and laughed.
“So what now?” she said.
“What do you mean?” I said. I knew what she meant.
“Are we like…” Ruby gestured at the space between us.
“Engaged?” I suggested.
She laughed, a single, loud ha! that reminded me of Jamie at the worst possible time.
“I’m kidding,” I added.
“I know.”
“We can be whatever you want us to be.”
“But what do you want?”
I looked at her, lying in the bed we’d made out in hours earlier, days after I’d kissed her first, weeks after this very scene would have seemed laughably unlikely, months after I got my heart broken, and felt there was only one possible, reasonable answer.
“I want you,” I said.
Finally, Ruby sat up and scooted down the bed to my side. The gears in my heart whirred to life. She leaned in close to me, waiting to be kissed. She had morning breath, which was comforting, in a way. It meant I wasn’t dreaming. This was really happening. I kissed her, still waiting to believe it.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so excited to walk into school on a Monday morning. I strode into the building feeling like