Page 141 of Maybe You

And maybe I’m wrong. Maybe this isn’t one.

But for now, I measure my days in pre-Sutton and post-Sutton.

“Rise and shine!”

I flinch and squeeze my eyes shut when a flash of sunlight hits me square in the eyeball before I drag the covers over my head. For good measure, I pat the other side of my bed until I find the second pillow and plop that over my face, too.

“Nope,” Jordan says cheerfully, grabbing the end of the comforter and yanking it off me.

I push my hair out of my face and glare at him.

“What the fuck, Jordan?” I snap when I push myself to a sitting position and rub the heels of my palms over my eyes.

He crosses his arms over his chest and gives me a long, slow look.

“You look lovely,” he says. “Exquisite. I’m surprised poets aren’t lining up outside your window to ask you to be their muse.”

I drop onto my back on the bed, let out a huff of aggravation, and cover my eyes with my arms.

“Why are you in my room?”

“It’s past noon,” he says.

“So?”

“We figured you’d died in here, and I drew the shortest toothpick, so I had to come and check.”

“Well, I’m alive. Close the door behind you.” I hide my face in the pillow again.

“Aww. You think you get to keep hiding. That’s cute.”

First, I raise my middle finger in the approximate direction of his voice.

“I’m not hiding,” I mutter into the pillow.

“He says without a single sign that he detects the irony of that statement.”

I pull the pillow off my face and glare at him.

“Please go away.”

The request obviously gets lost in translation, because he sits down on the edge of my bed instead.

“It’s time to stop moping.”

“I’m not moping,” I mutter. “I’m sleeping.”

The mattress tilts when he gets back up again. I let out a sigh of relief.

That is until my ankle is caught in Jordan’s iron grip, and he starts jerking me toward the edge of the bed.

“What the hell?” I snap, scrabbling to get a hold of something. Anything will do.

He ignores me.

I grab the edge of the headboard. Jordan continues to tug. The bed groans ominously.

“Will you just fucking stop?” I try to kick him, but it’s no use.

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