Page 45 of Scoring the Player
“I did not!” Even if she does thrash around in her sleep, I never would have said anything. Jane’s parents were really strict when she was younger, and she never did sleepovers with friends. I love giving that to her.
Jane ignores me and continues talking to Felix. “So we made me a little fort. I lie there and we gab about boys, you know, all the usual girl-talk stuff.”
He adjusts a pillow. “It’s like indoor camping.”
“Minus nature,” Jane scrunches her nose, “anyway, I’m so tired.” She fakes a yawn. “Night, night.”
She goes, shutting the door on her way out.
“She’s something,” Felix says, smiling after her.
“She really is.” I stand at the edge of the fort, not sure what to do. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want.”
“Are you kidding? This might be more comfortable than my bed.” He sits up, but instead of getting to his feet, he takes my hand and tugs me down to the pillows with him.
I land, not gracefully at all, beside him. “Really?”
“No.” He laughs. “But the company is better.”
I settle into the blankets. There are something like fifteen of them, plus a half-dozen pillows. Jane even bought a little stuffed teddy bear for her second bed.
“I like your room.” Lying on his back, he looks around the space.
“Thanks.” It isn’t big, so there isn’t much furniture. My bed, a desk, and a nightstand. The only thing on the wall is this season’s Valley U golf tournament schedule and mini Polaroid pictures of me, Jane, Daisy, and Violet over the past year.
“What’s your room like?” I ask, staring up at the ceiling. Felix’s body lies alongside mine, a pleasant warmth radiates off him.
“Well, it doesn’t have a pillow fort.”
“Missing out.”
“No kidding.”
I elbow him. “Really, give me a visual. I realized tonight I don’t know a lot about you, outside of football and parties.”
“That’s all there is to know,” he says, but I notice his jaw tics.
“Tell me about your room.”
“Okay.” He turns his face to look at me. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. Felix has a great mouth. It’s almost too wide for his face. I think that’s why I always notice his smile.
“It’s a little smaller than yours. The bed is pushed against one wall. The TV and PlayStation are set up on the other side and eighty percent of the time, my clothes are sitting in the laundry basket on the floor because I don’t want to fold or put them away.” A real, full smile takes over his face now.
“Anything on the walls?”
“A poster,” he says with a little reluctance.
“Of?”
He squeezes one eye shut and grimaces. “Me.”
“What?” I giggle.
“Lucas started it. He put one up as a joke; the guys all thought it was hilarious. I took it down, but then two more appeared. Took those down, and—”
“Three more appeared?”
“Yeah.” He laughs. “So I left one up and they’ve stopped pranking me.”
