Tilian was still looking at the ceiling, almost expressionless.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I’m contemplating life.”
I tried not to laugh. “Contemplate in the shower. I can’t stand this moroseness. Dean’s supposed to be the grumpy one.”
“He’s only like that with you.”
I rose up higher and leveled him with a stern look. “Why are you grumpy with me?”
He took a hit from a pen- a really long one. How convenient. I threw a pillow at him, which he immediately threw back. It hit Tilian in the face and I gasped, curling myself over him protectively.
“You’re a monster, Dean. Why won’t you bless me with this alleged non-grumpy side?”
“Jesus,” he mumbled. “I’m not grumpy with you.”
“You kinda are,” Tilian said as he pushed me back a little.
My stoic pal shot him a glare. “Does everybody have to be cheery all the time?”
“Not at all,” I replied. “But you have to.”
“Why?”
“Gee, I don’t know. Maybe because you are with everyone else.”
“I’m regretting my decisions already,” Dean sighed.
“Chill. I’m just screwing with you. Seriously, you need to lighten up. If you get to know me, maybe it’ll be easier. Twenty questions.”
“No.”
I huffed, then looked down at Tilian. He seemed a little distant, but when he saw me staring, he smiled. It was tight and awkward, which made me frown.
“Twenty questions. You, me, and Dean. Cool?”
“I’m down.”
“Alright, I’ll go first. Tilian, what’s your middle name?”
“Oh, god. I hate you right now. It’s Abraham.”
I pursed my lips on a smile. “How biblical.”
“My dad’s a pastor.”
“Intriguing. I asked for one piece of information and got two. Three, actually, because that tells me you’re a giver.” I waggled my eyebrows, which made his cheeks redden.
“Uh, Dean,” he said.
Surprisingly, Dean gave him his full attention. There was even the hint of a smile on his face.
“If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?”
“Australia.”
I made a sound of disgust. Dean put a few fingers over his mouth as if smothering his laughter.