Lovecraft sat next to Harry Potter and Naruto manga numbers one through fifteen.
We worked for about twenty minutes to put everything to rights, and by the time we finished, he wasn't scared anymore.
I could smell it, though.
It was watching us.
I dusted my hands off and looked around.
"You usually keep your room this neat, kid?" He nodded solemnly.
I shook my head.
"You need help.
Just like your mom.
My little sister kept fossilized lunches under her bed for the dust bunnies she raised there." I picked up a game from the neat stack.
"Want to play some Battleship?" I wasn't leaving him alone with that thing in there.
Chad armed himself with a notebook, and we went to war.
Historically, war has often been used as a distraction for problems at home.
Both of us lay on our bellies on the floor facing each other and fired our missiles.
Adam called, and I told him he'd have to wait--battle must take precedence over romance.
He laughed, wished me good night and good luck, just like that old war correspondent.
Chad's two-point boat was devilishly well hidden, and he destroyed my navy while I hunted it fruitlessly.
"Argh!" I cried with feeling.
"You sank my battleship!" Chad's face lit with laughter, and someone knocked at the door.
I supposed I hadn't needed to make so much noise since Chad couldn't hear me anyway.
"Come in," I said.
Reading my lips, Chad looked suddenly horrified, and I reached over and patted his shoulder.
The door popped open, and I rolled halfway over and looked back over my feet as if to see who it was.
Most people would have needed to look, so I did, but I'd heard him coming--and Amber had never stalked angrily in her life.
Stomp, yes.
Stalk, no.
Trust me--any predator knows the difference.
"Isn't it after bedtime?" Corban said.
He was wearing a pair of sweats and an old Seattle Seahawks shirt.
His hair was rumpled as if he'd been to bed.