"Hey, Ugly! Anybody home?"
From the couch, I hear my brother's voice ring through the house as the front door comes open. Just vaguely, though, being that I have my headphones on and I don't plan on taking them off. I ignore him and keep my eyes on my laptop screen, trying to think about anything but the insistent heat coming through the windows. We don't have AC, and opening them was supposed to create some sort of air flow in the house on this insufferably muggy day. But instead, it's only made things worse.
There's a clatter of something heavy falling to the ground, but I don't budge. I'm concentrated on the new mix I'm crafting, something different from my usual stuff. Once it comes together, I might actually be proud of it. It's something I could feel good about showing to people. Maybe. I could actually get some work done if I were alone like I'd been five seconds ago. The ruckus coming from the stairs doesn't do anything to help my concentration.
"Hey, could you shut the fuck up?" I call, lifting my headphones off of one ear.
Footsteps follow my words and my brother appears in the living room, gross and sweaty. "Oh. You are home," he says. "Hey, Fugly."
"What are you doing that's so loud?" I ask. "Robbing the place? You're horrible at subtlety."
"Me and my new roomie are grabbing some shit for our sweet new apartment," he says, then gives me a judgmental once-over. "Why are you dressed like a ho?"
"Jesus, Buckley, shut up," I say, rolling my eyes.
"Don't call me that," he says, pointing a finger at me. "I'll end your life if you call me that."
"Sure, Buckley," I say again.
"I swear to god, Beca," he warns, but I'm the furthest thing from afraid.
"What's going on?" another voice says, then a guy comes around the corner wearing a tank top and shorts, brown hair messed up, forehead shiny with sweat. But on him, it's attractive.
"Nothing," my brother says. I take my headphones fully off and lean forward on the couch, elbows on my knees. I have no clue who this guy is, but I give him a small smile. He returns the gesture, and my heart clogs my throat. Jesus. I've never seen brown eyes like that. "Just my baby sister calling me the wrong name."
"I always did kinda wonder if your parents really named you Bumper," the guy says. "So… it's actually Buckley?"
"It's actually not," Bumper says. "It's Bumper and that's the end of it."
"He's still mad about the seventh grade when people figured out what 'Buck' rhymed with," I say, smirking.
The guy smirks, too. "Oh," he says. "Damn. That's rough."
"Enough about my childhood trauma!" Bumper says.
"You gonna introduce me, or what?" the guy asks, nodding in my direction.
"Oh," I say, standing up. Suddenly, I'm aware of the outfit I'm wearing in order to survive the stifling heat. Spandex shorts and a camisole - this is the least I've worn around a guy unrelated to me, ever. I don't feel like a 'ho,' as my brother quaintly put it, but I do feel something. I'm not sure what it is, though. "Sorry. I'm Beca."
There's a moment where we decide whether to hug or shake hands, but then go with neither. A strange, electric moment passes and Bumper looks between us with squinted eyes. "Yeah, weird," he says. "Anyway, this is Jesse, my new roomie. We're just gonna grab some stuff and then we're headed out." He makes eye contact with me. "You gonna be okay? Did Mom go shopping?"
"No," I say, crossing my arms while feeling my cheeks redden. I don't like talking about our family in the presence of other people. Jesse is a stranger who knows nothing about us, and that's preferable. Once you scratch the surface, things in the Mitchell family aren't so picturesque. "But it's fine."
Bumper turns and opens the fridge. "There's nothing in here," he says, sighing. "I'll leave you some cash and text Mom. She said she was gonna pick up groceries for you, like, a week ago."
"You don't have to give me money," I mutter. "It's fine. I have a second interview at Green Light Music soon."
"I'm already Venmoing it, so you have no choice," he says, tapping the screen of his phone. "There. Nourish yourself."
Jesse chuckles lightly, shoulders bouncing. "It was nice to meet you," he says, then extends his arm for a handshake, finally. It's weird, shaking hands with someone my age, but I do it anyway. Though he's sweating, his palm isn't. It's big and dry, comforting over anything. When our hands lock, I don't want to let go.
"Alright! Time to go," Bumper says, clapping to interrupt the moment. "Bex Mix, bring it in."
"No way," I say, smiling as I cringe. "You're sweaty and disgusting."
"Yep. Come on. Family hug."
"Fuck off!"
"No choice in the matter. C'mere." Then, he wraps his arms around me in a bear hug and pats my back roughly as he says, "Love you, Ugly."
"F you," I say. "Love you, too. I guess."
Jesse raises his hand in a wave, and my cheeks heat up as I look at him. "Hopefully see you again soon," he says. "Bex Mix."
"Oh, my god," I mutter to myself, then hear Bumper talk to him as they walk away.
"Don't call her that, dude. It's weird."
…
A few nights later, I'm sitting on the floor in my room with my best friend, Chloe, looking over our assigned reading for this year. "I don't wanna read The Odyssey," she says. "That's so totally boring."
"Yeah, me neither," I say, flipping through the pages. "But I don't think SparkNotes will cut it for that big-ass paper she's looking for."
"God," Chloe says, flopping onto her back with her arms out to either side. "This sucks. I just wanna be done with high school forever."
"You're just gonna have to do more work in college," I say pointedly.
"Don't be logical. I hate it when you're logical," she says. I laugh softly and join her on the floor, but only for a minute. When I hear the front door open downstairs, I sit straight up with furrowed eyebrows. "Who's that?" Chloe asks.
"I don't know," I say, frowning. I hear two voices - a woman and a man. The woman is my mom, but the man's voice is one I don't recognize. "I thought she was at work tonight."
"Oh," Chloe says, as the voices get louder downstairs. "I should get going, then."
"You don't have to," I say, a bit desperately.
"I should…" she trails off, eyeing the open window. "I'll just leave through here."
"Chlo," I say, deadpan. "Come on. Really?"
"Sorry," she says, giving me a pained expression.
It's not a secret that my mom doesn't get along well with much of anyone. My dad left when I was 8 and Bumper was 10; she didn't get along with him, either. When she's not at work, she's bringing home a new guy, which sounds like is what's happening downstairs.
"It's fine," I say, knowing that I can't be mad at Chloe for wanting to avoid something I myself also want to avoid. And for her, it's worse. My mom always has some underhanded comment about her appearance - hair, clothes or otherwise. She's never liked my friends.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" Chloe says, already halfway out the window.
"Yeah," I say.
She disappears and I hear the soft sound of her feet hitting the grass below, just in time for the handle of my door to turn and my mom to appear. She has too much makeup on, per usual, and went a little crazy with the perfume. The scent takes over my entire bedroom within seconds. "Hi, baby," she says, slurring her words a little. It's barely dinnertime and she's already tipsy - it shouldn't surprise me, but how little she cares somehow still catches me off guard. "What're you up to?" She scans the floor. "Homework? Oh, you're so smart. You take after me that way. I just never applied myself." She laughs, loud and brash, and the man who she brought home laughs, too, from a good distance away. "Stop eavesdropping!" she calls down the hall. "How was your day, baby?" she asks me.
Perking up at the question, I begin to answer. "Oh, it was fine… not that exciting, but-"
"Good," she says, stumbling a bit as she walks away from my room. "Well, me and Richie are gonna be here all night. Come out and say hi when you're done. He'd love to meet you." She blows a kiss, then disappears.
With the door wide open, I stare at the carpet and feel my skin flush. The warmth begins at the base of my neck and travels to the tips of my ears, anger working its way through my system. The last thing I want is to be here while my mom and her man of the week drink and have sex, most likely on the couch in the living room. I can't think of anything worse.
So, I text my brother.
SENT, 6:06pm- im coming over. Mom came home. Its not good.
RECEIVED, 6:10pm- fuck. yeah sure. Im not home yet but front doors unlocked just come on in. jesses there hes cool with it
Without waiting, I shove a few important things into my backpack and leave the same way Chloe did. I scale the side of the house and land expertly on the front lawn, walking with purpose to the bus stop that'll take me to Bumper and Jesse's apartment a few miles away. I blast music in my headphones on the way there, hoping the familiar beats will help me forget the boozy look in my mom's eyes, but it doesn't do much to quell the anger. I don't know what will. Sometimes, it feels like rage will be inside me forever. And that's scary.
When I get to the apartment, I know it's theirs because of the stupid TrebleMakers flag hanging in the upstairs window. That has to be my brother's room, because the same flag was hanging in his dorm last year and in his bedroom the year before. He's obsessed with the acapella group and claims I absolutely have to join the Bellas next year, but I'm not sure about that. I'm in a low-key acapella group right now, but I don't know if I'm passionate enough to continue in college.
I knock on the front door as a safety measure, then open it like Bumper said to do. "Hello?" I call, not wanting to scare Jesse. "It's Beca… Bumper's sister? He said it was cool that I came over…?"
I hear footsteps come bounding down the stairs before Jesse shows up in the kitchen, all smiles. "Hey," he says, a little breathless. "Yeah, Bumper texted me that you were headed our way."
"Didn't wanna scare you," I say, adjusting the strap of my backpack while finding it hard to meet his eyes.
"Far from scared," he says, nodding the way inside. "Come on in. Take your shoes off, make yourself comfortable. Me and him still got a lot of unpacking to do, but we're getting there."
"I like it," I say, looking around. It's pretty big, at least compared to Bumper's dorm last year that was more like a closet.
"It's pretty sweet," Jesse says. "Want me to take your bag?"
"Oh," I say. "Um, sure."
I hand it to him and his arm drops with the weight. "Jesus," he says, laughing. "Whatcha got in here, bricks?"
"No," I say, fighting a smile. "I brought my laptop and some mixing stuff… I don't like to leave the house without it."
"Mixing stuff?" he says. "Are we talking music or baking?"
I roll my eyes, unable to help my laugh. "You're an idiot," I say.
"Hey, it's an honest question," he says. "For all I know, you could have carted a KitchenAide over here."
"I didn't," I say. "It's music. I make tracks. I don't know, it's just something I like to do."
"Well, that's cool," he says. "I'm taking a music theory class this semester, so now I know to call you when I need help."
"I don't know about that," I say, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.
"I do," he says confidently. "Alright, come in. Sit. We at least have the couch set up. Maybe we could turn on a movie or something while we wait for your bro to get back."
"Oh…" I say, wondering if it's rude to turn him down in his own home.
"Oh?" he says. "What, you hate movies or something? Wait." He points at me. "I remember Bumper saying something about you never finishing a movie in your whole life. Is that true? Don't tell me it's true."
"God…" I say. "Well, yeah, kinda… I don't know. I'm just not a huge fan of them."
"Then you're not watching them with the right person," he says, kneeling to look at the DVD collection. "People. The right people, I mean. Because movies, Bex Mix, are a magical experience."
"Only my brother calls me that," I murmur, my face growing hot.
"Oh, sorry," Jesse says, looking over his shoulder. "Sorry, sorry. I won't do it again if it bothers you."
"I mean… it doesn't," I say. "But you might wanna think of something else. Seeing as he's my brother and you're not."
"Right," he says. "Well, hopefully I'll think of something one of these days. Something good."
"Yeah," I say, hands on my knees.
"So, what should I put in? Star Wars, The Breakfast Club, Rocky, E.T.?"
"I don't know…" I say.
"Have you seen any of those?" I shake my head. "Beca!" he exclaims. "They're classics!"
"I just… I don't know!" I say, laughing.
He comes over and sits next to me on the couch, the array of DVDs across his lap. "Look at these," he says. "Cinematic masterpieces."
"Sure."
"They are," he insists, then holds up Rocky. "Go ahead. Touch it. Touch him."
"Now you're just being weird."
"Touch him!" he says, then takes my wrist and places my hand on the DVD. I crack up laughing, something I haven't done so unabashedly in a while, and collapse backwards. "Did you feel his power?" Jesse asks.
"I didn't feel shit," I say, tossing the DVD aside.
"Honeys, I'm home!" Bumper calls as the front door slams shut. "I smell something awful. Is Beca here?"
"Shut the fuck up," I say, craning my neck to look at him as he walks in. Jesse's sitting at my feet, with the DVD cases gathered there, too.
"You're so mean to her, man," Jesse says, a smile still on his face.
"I'm allowed to be," Bumper says, knocking my shoulder. "She's been the gum stuck to my shoe since I was two years old."
"You're so annoying," I say, rolling my eyes. "You would die without me."
"Yeah, and?" Bumper says, which makes me snort. He sits on the coffee table and looks at me seriously, hands folded together. "So… what was up at the house?" I shrug, eyes darting to Jesse. "It's cool," Bumper says, sensing my restraint. "He knows about all the shit."
"Oh," I say, not knowing how to feel about that. "Well, it was just the normal stuff."
"I can leave, if you guys wanna talk," Jesse says, standing up halfway.
"You don't have to," I say, surprising myself. He sits back down. "I don't know. Chloe was over, then Mom got home and was tipsy already. She had a guy with her - Richie, she called him? I'd never heard of him before. But she wanted me to like, meet him."
"I don't want you around those guys she brings home," Bumper says.
"I know," I say. "I left, didn't I? I didn't wanna be there, either. Pretty sure they were gonna bang on the couch."
"Nasty," he says, cringing. "Well, you can crash here tonight. You bring your stuff?"
"Yeah."
"Cool."
"I was just trying to get her to watch a movie," Jesse says.
"What, so you can try some moves out on her?" Bumper says, raising his eyebrows. "Yeah fuckin' right, man."
"No!" Jesse says, and I'm embarrassed all over again.
"God, Buckley…" I say.
"I will kick you out so fast," he says. I laugh and make conspiratorial eye contact with Jesse. "Seriously, dude," Bumper says. "Don't try any shit with my sister."
"Take a chill pill, dad," I say.
He gives me a look. "As if Dad gives a shit."
I nod; he has a point. But still, I say, "Ouch."
…
"So, did you get to see him in the morning looking all scruffy and cute?"
I roll my eyes, looking in the top shelf of my locker for my biology book. "No, idiot," I say, pulling it down to place it on top of my binder. I shut my locker and look at Chloe, who's dying for details. I didn't tell her about the sleepover at my brother's until now, a few days later, because I knew she would make a big deal out ofi t after I told her how cute Jesse is. I should've known it would be a mistake. "I left before he was even up."
"Should've waited," she says. "Maybe he would've kissed you goodbye."
"Oh, my god," I say, ducking my head as we start down the hallway. "It is not like that. At all."
"Not yet," she says.
"Not at all!" I argue. "I'm his best friend's little sister. That's literally it."
"Uh-huh," she says. "Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that."
"One day, I will kill you."
She laughs lightly, shrugging as she goes. "So, you're coming to Stacie's party tonight, right? It's at her new house, that huge one her family just bought? It's gonna be super lit."
"Don't say 'lit,'" I tell her. "And I don't know if I should. I have a lot of stuff to get done…"
"Come on," she says, yanking my arm. "You're so boring. Just come out like, one time."
"Chloe…" I groan, getting my arm back. "I really don't know."
"Please!" she says. "It'll be fun. Luke might be there…"
"I don't even like him like that anymore."
"Oh, right," she says. "'Cause you have Jesse now."
"Shut up or I won't come," I say.
"Yay, you're coming!" she says, bouncing up and down. "And don't even think about walking in just to walk out. I really want you to have fun, Beca. You deserve it. You do so much for other people and you should be able to let loose and have a drink… or like, ten!"
"I don't know about that," I say, but I'm smiling.
"I'm so happy you're coming," she says, giving me a big hug from the side. "Okay. I gotta get to Psych. I'll see you tonight. Let's get ready at my place!"
…
The party is louder than I anticipated, filled with a lot of people, but not necessarily in a bad way. I get greeted as soon as I walk in with Chloe, handed a red Solo cup by Stacie as soon as she sees us. "You made it!" she cheers. "I'm so happy. It's so good to see you guys. Beca! You never come out. You're here!"
"I'm here," I say, taking a big swig of beer. It's not bad, either. "Your place is awesome."
"Perks of having a rich step-dad, I guess," she says, shrugging. "Go anywhere you want! Everything is open! We have a ton of drinks and food, it's gonna last all night."
"Great!" Chloe says, shouting over the beat as Stacie walks away.
"The music kinda sucks, though," I say, downing the rest of my cup.
"Yeah, kinda," Chloe says. "But we can get past it. We should go dance!"
"Maybe in a little bit," I say. "I need more alcohol before I make a fool of myself."
She laughs and heads off in a different direction, and I get a refill on my beer. As I'm halfway through the second cup, I make my way down the hall to get a good look at the house and run right into Luke, spilling beer all down my chest. "Oh, shit!" he says.
"Wow," I say, face heating up.
"Shit," he says. "Damn, I'm so sorry. Let me… oh, god."
He grabs a towel from the bathroom and starts to dab me with it, but I push him gently away. "Um, that's okay," I say, given he's way too close to my boobs. "Kind of an awkward spot, um… yeah."
"Right," he says. "God, I'm an idiot. I'm so sorry. I hadn't seen you coming!"
"Yeah, I can tell," I grumble, setting my empty cup down.
"Let me get you another," he says. "Please, it's the least I can do. I feel like such an arse."
"Sure," I say, shoulders tense as we walk down the hall together and back towards the kitchen. He grabs me a cup and when I take a sip, I notice it's stronger than what I'd been drinking before.
"You're Becky, right?" he asks. Luke is a foreign exchange student that absolutely every girl with eyes has a crush on. I'm not special for thinking he's cute or getting all tongue-tied around him. I feel stupid for it, over anything. I'm not usually that type. Before I have a chance to correct him on my name, he says, "We should dance. Come on, let's find the music."
I don't really want to say no, so I don't. I follow him and finish the rest of my drink, feeling pleasantly buzzed after it's gone. I have a few more, and I only realize how drunk I am once I stop dancing. I have no idea where Chloe is, the party is louder than ever, and Luke is way too close to me. "I should… go," I slur, bracing myself with my hands on his shoulders.
"What?" he says. "Why? We're having such a great time."
"Yeah…" I say, giggling. "I still gotta go."
"I can take you back to my place," he says. "My host family is out of town. We'd have it all to ourselves."
"Uh…" I say, then shake my head. "I don't think so."
"What, you're not having fun?"
"I just gotta go," I say, then weave as best I can out of the crowd. I have no idea if he's following me, but the room is spinning by the time I find a quiet corner and pull out my phone. I need someone to come pick me up, but my mom isn't an option. Even if she weren't working, she'd probably try and come join the party herself. That's the last thing I need; I can't think of anything more mortifying. I can't get home on my own, and Chloe is conveniently MIA. I hadn't meant to get this drunk, or really, drunk at all. I shouldn't have come.
I call Bumper, but he doesn't answer. I don't give up easily, though. I press his contact again and again and listen to the ringing, knowing it'll wake him up eventually. Finally, after about ten tries, it gets answered. "Hey… Bumper's phone. Is that you, Beca?"
"Buckley?" I say, sufficiently confused. It doesn't sound like him.
"Uh, no," the voice says. "It's Jesse. Bumper's at the gym and I heard his phone ringing like crazy. Are you okay?"
"Yeah… um… yeah, I'm okay, but I need someone to come get me," I say, glancing around. I make eye contact with Luke, who starts walking my way. "Kinda like, soon."
"Where are you?"
"A party," I answer.
"Okay, I can come get you. Just send me your location. I'll be there soon, alright? Hang tight."
He hangs up and Luke finds his way over, boxing me in with one hand on the wall. "Who was that?" he asks. "Boyfriend?"
"No," I say, shoving the phone into my pocket.
"Then what's stopping you from coming with me?" he says. "I know you like me."
"Uh… I don't," I say. "And I'm super drunk… it's not a good idea."
"Honestly, doesn't that make it an even better idea?"
"Can you back off?" I say, turning my head to the side.
"Aw, come on, Becky," he says. "Let's kiss and make it better."
"Fuck you," I say, then physically shoulder my way out of the situation. I bluster onto the porch and wrap my arms around myself, waiting while rocking on my heels until a car rolls up and Jesse sticks his head out the open window.
"Hey!" he says. "Come on in."
I hurry to the car and buckle myself into the passenger's seat, leaning forward with my head in my hands. For a while, we just sit there, unmoving, and I have no idea why. "Can we go?" I snap, head spinning.
"Are you okay?" he asks. "Are you gonna puke? I brought a bag, just in case."
"I'm good," I say. "Just… tired. And I wanna leave."
"Okay," he says, pulling away from the house.
We spend a while in silence and I don't look up. I'm too embarrassed. Eventually, Jesse turns on some music and drums his thumbs on the steering wheel. This is the longest ride home ever. "Thanks for getting me," I murmur, still looking at my knees.
"It was no prob," he says. "The party looked pretty crazy."
"Yeah…" I say. "If you could do me a favor and… not tell my brother?"
"Oh," he says.
"I already know going there was a mistake," I say. "I don't usually drink. He'll be pissed about it because of our mom and stuff. But it's not like me. I'm not gonna make it a habit or anything. I just don't want him to freak out."
"Yeah, okay," Jesse says. "Sure, I get it."
"It's not a big deal. It was just a stupid party."
"No, yeah, totally. We've all been there."
I laugh a little and say, "Probably not you."
"What's that supposed to mean?" he says lightly.
I lift my head for the first time and glance his way. "You don't seem like the type to get drunk and in over your head at a rager."
"Well…" he begins. "Okay. Maybe you got me. But I can sympathize." I laugh again, shaking my head. "And I got your back," he says.
"Thanks," I say. "I appreciate it."
"So…" he says, drawing out the word. "Were there any cute guys there?"
I raise my eyebrows. "You looking for a date?"
This time, he's the one to blush. "As far as I know, I don't swing that way," he says. "No hate, though. But no… just asking."
I shake my head no. "They're all trash," I say.
"Even the guy staring at you?" he asks.
"Staring at me?" I repeat. "Who?"
"I don't know," he says, turning a corner. "Some blonde dude. All muscley. Your typical hunky-looking guy. The kind who would play my nemesis in a movie."
"Oh, Luke," I say. "Uh… yeah, no. He might be the worst."
"Why?"
"I don't know, he was coming onto me all night. Even after I said no."
Jesse bristles. "That's fucked up," he says. "You should've said something. I would've gone in there."
"Yeah, no way," I say, tucking hair behind my ear. "I took care of it. He's just an asshole."
"Okay," Jesse says, but his body doesn't relax. "Fuck him, though. Seriously."
I glance over at my brother's best friend and smile, something warm fluttering in my chest as I say, "Yeah, fuck him."
…
The next weekend, I make my way over to Bumper and Jesse's apartment with the excuse of wanting to get out of the house, texting my brother that Mom came home with yet another man. It's not true; I don't know where she is, but she's not home. I just don't want to be there alone, and I might want to see Jesse again. Maybe.
"Hey, Fugs," Bumper says, greeting me as he makes a sandwich at the kitchen counter. "Just let yourself in, why don'tcha."
"The door was open," I say, tossing my backpack onto a chair. "That's not very safe."
"I worry for the burglar's intelligence and wellbeing if they're breaking into a shithole like this," he says, turning around with a mouthful of sandwich. "What's up."
"Not a lot," I say, leaning against the counter. I look around the kitchen casually, then ask, "Jesse home?" I try to seem as nonchalant as possible, but I'm not sure it works.
"Yeah, upstairs. Why?" Bumper asks.
I shrug. "Just curious."
He grabs his phone and opens it, then looks back to me. "Oh. I've been meaning to ask you. What was with the fuckin' thousand calls on Friday? I was going through my log and saw your name down the whole damn list. Were you that bored?"
My stomach jumps and my face flames, and I really hope it doesn't turn red. I try to keep my cool when I say, "Oh… yeah. I was just over at Chloe's and she… wanted to talk to you about Barden. And like, acapella and stuff."
"And that warranted a hundred calls."
"I guess," I say. "It's Chloe. You know how she gets."
"Yeah, Jesus," he says. "Well, anyway. I'm about to finish this, then I'm off to the gym. Can't hang around. Gotta go pump the iron." He flashes his nonexistent muscles. "Gotta impress those ladies."
"Yeah, what ladies," I say.
"There are plenty of ladies," he says, shoving the rest of the sandwich in his mouth as he puts on his shoes. "Plenty of ladies that you don't need to worry about. My very active love life and your rightfully dead one should stay on opposite sides of the earth."
"My love life is not dead," I say, flipping him off.
"Well, I don't wanna know about it, so it might as well be," he says. "See ya. Be back later."
Once he leaves, I stay in the quiet kitchen for a while and make myself a bagel with peanut butter. I only eat half, leaving the other for my brother to inevitably inhale when he gets back, then make my way into the living room. And right there on the couch is Jesse, which makes me jump and smile at the same time. "Oops," he says, taking his headphones off. "Scare you?"
"No," I say, sitting down.
"A little?"
"A little," I say, and he nudges my thigh with his foot. "Bumper told me you were upstairs."
"Came down for some water. Heard you guys in the kitchen, but I didn't wanna interrupt."
"You could've. He was showing off his muscles that he thinks exist."
Jesse laughs, closing the lid of his laptop. "Probably would've brightened my spirits a little. I'm working on this assignment that's freaking impossible."
"What is it?" I ask, then lift my hands palms-up. "If it has anything to do with math, I'm out."
"No," he says. "It's actually for that music theory class I told you about a while ago. We were all given the same piece and we have to make it unique. Except I have no idea how to do that. I'm pretty sure what I create is gonna sound exactly like everyone else's. I have no idea what I'm doing."
I raise my eyebrows. "You do know who you're talking to, right?"
"Nah," he says, shaking his head. "I can't ask you to do that. It's a ton of work."
"Not for me, it isn't."
"Oh, you're that cocky?" he says.
"Maybe," I say, shrugging one shoulder. "Just let me look at it. Never know."
"Okay," he says. "But just looking. Not doing any work."
"Sure, sure," I say, reaching for the laptop.
"The assignment's actually upstairs," he says. "Want me to go grab it and bring it down?"
"I can just come up," I say, following his lead as he stands. "Unless that's weird."
"Not weird," he says. "My room's just a little messy."
After we go upstairs, he pushes open the door to probably the cleanest bedroom I've ever seen. "This is what you call messy?" I say, sitting on the edge of his bed.
"I mean… yeah," he says.
"You're never allowed in my room, then," I say, laughing. A strange look flits across his face, then I amend my statement as I find myself flustered, too. "I mean. I'd just have to clean it up if you wanted to… I don't know, come see it sometime. You'd be so mortified at the state it's in right now. So bad."
"I doubt it's that bad," he says, sitting on the bed after grabbing a packet from his desk. He opens his laptop back up and hands me the paper, and I read the directions.
"This sounds easy," I say.
"Way to rub it in."
"Shut up," I say, then take the laptop and open the music file. "So… if you wanna make it sound really sweet, you have to make sure there's a steady downbeat that links the songs together," I say, snatching the headphones, too.
"I swear I said something about you not taking over," he notes.
I laugh a little. "I'm teaching," I say. "Plus, this is fun."
"Fine," he says.
"Also, it's totally cheating," I say, but dodge his hands as he tries to yank the headphones back. I laugh loudly, leaning to the side as I mess with the bass and treble. "Stop!" I say, grinning widely. "Just let me do it. Your grade will thank me."
"I'd like to put it on the record that this cheating is against my will," he says, still reaching for the headphones - but not really trying. "God, you are horrible!"
"You won't say that after you hear this," I say. "Whiner baby."
"Hey," he says, smirking. "You're the baby between us. Little baby B."
"That is not gonna turn into a thing."
"Sure it isn't," he says, eyes gleaming.
"Oh, my god. Whatever," I say, trying to force the stupid smile off my face. "So… here. Listen."
"Wait, you did that stuff just now?" he asks. "How? It was like two seconds."
"I'm just that good," I say.
He takes the headphones and presses play, then nods along. Then, he looks at me with raised eyebrows and says, "This is amazing. I have no idea how you just did that."
"That's the idea," I say, taking them back.
"I think it could use some lyrics, though," he says.
"I hadn't gotten to that part yet," I say, glancing over my shoulder. "I don't tell you how to do your job."
"Which is what, sit here and look pretty?"
I snort. "Sure."
Sitting on Jesse's bed with him, we both lose track of time as we trade the headphones back and forth. We eventually get more comfortable, reclining on the mattress with our shoulders resting against one another, and after a hell of a lot of work, I find my eyelids drooping. I look over to see him already falling asleep and tell myself that I need to get up, but before my legs can follow through, I succumb and close my eyes beside him.
I don't know how much time passes before I jolt awake to the sound of knocking. The moments pass slowly as I realize what position we've found ourselves in - one I have no idea how we got to. Jesse has one arm around my middle, spooning me from behind, with the other under my head. Comfortably, one of my hands is resting in the open palm of his and I can feel his slow breath on my neck, and if there weren't someone about to barge through that door, I'd want to stay in this position forever. I can't remember the last time I felt so safe.
"Dude, are you dead in there? You have my charger and my phone is dying! This girl Clarisse is about to text me. I'm coming in," Bumper's voice says.
"Shit," I hiss, then leap off the bed and into Jesse's closet. Just in time, too, because I hear the door come open and see my brother through the slats of the door.
"Dude," Jesse says, sitting up halfway and rubbing his eyes.
"Good morning, sunshine," Bumper says, grabbing the charger on the nightstand. "Where's my sister, by the way?"
Jesse looks to either side of him, probably just as curious as Bumper is. "I… don't know," he says, still sleepy and confused. He sounds adorable.
"Well, her shit's still downstairs. So, she's gotta be around here somewhere. Nice boner, by the way. Having a good dream?"
I cover my mouth with my hands as Jesse covers his crotch, and Bumper laughs as he strolls out of the room. Once I hear footsteps disappear down the stairs, I push open the closet door and Jesse's eyes light up with recognition. "That was close," he says.
"Yeah," I say, leaning against the wall while looking towards the door. "Too close. I don't know what he would've done had he seen… what we were doing."
"What were we doing?" Jesse asks, and by the look in his eyes and tone of his voice I can tell he knows we were cuddling - the question is abstract over anything.
I answer as best I can and say, "I don't know."