“Dryer-sheet bed?” I ask Nate, laughing lightly.

“It’s a Ty thing. He likes the way they smell. It’s kind of like Cookie,” Nate says with a small shake of his head. “Ty likes what he likes.”

“Oh! Speaking of…look what I brought,” I say, leading Nate back to my room and unzipping my small travel bag and pulling out my teddy bear hostage. “I thought maybe we’ve taken this far enough.”

Nate nods, leaning against the doorframe and grinning while I start to tuck it back into the zipper bag. “You wanna win Ty over forever?” Nate asks, and I pause, pulling the bear back out again. “Come with me.”

Nate leads me to a small door near the back porch, and I realize quickly it’s the laundry room. We toss Cookie into the dryer with a fabric softener sheet and let it spin for about five minutes. When it’s done, we pull it out, and I write a small note in all caps that says: “NO MORE FUSSY FUSS, OKAY?” and we tuck the note and the bear in the top of Ty’s blanket for him to find at bedtime.

Nate

I like having her in my house. She feels…permanent. But there’s this constant ache scratching at the back of my mind every second. It’s the secret I’m keeping, and I know if I tell her, she’ll leave. And I would understand. She should leave—she should have known all along, and had her chance to say goodbye. But she can never get that back. So I guess the only decision now is what happens moving forward, and maybe her parents are right. Maybe, to move forward, Rowe just needs to keep moving. And maybe knowing this will hold her back, mess with her head during finals, ruin her great start. But I can’t help but think it might all just backfire, too.

Her parents haven’t sold their house yet. But the last time she talked with them, right before we left for our flight, they were mostly packed. I wonder if they really went through with taking a trip—a vacation for just the two of them—or if they’re just at home, pretending.

We spent the night curled up with one another on the couch, watching the end of the Pacers and Miami game with Ty and my dad. Mom busied herself in the kitchen, prepping for our un-traditional Thanksgiving tomorrow. Mom made Lasagna and eggrolls, and Rowe actually seemed excited by it, which only made me love her more. Every little thing—sometimes the tiniest things—makes me love her more, and I’m in so deep now, I know I won’t make it back out whole.

Stretching out every moment, I hold her body close to mine along the sofa. My dad, per tradition, has dozed off in his chair, and Ty is busy dropping sunflower seeds in his hair, one at a time, which makes Rowe giggle, and makes me hold her tighter—loving her more.

“All right, kids,” Ty says, brushing his hands of the salt from the seeds while he backs away from my dad’s chair. “This face needs its beauty sleep. And I told Cass I’d call.”

“Good,” Rowe says, her voice a little forceful, and it actually surprises Ty and me.

“I’m sorry, did I miss something?” Ty asks, his eyebrows pinched as he scratches the darned-near full beard he’s been growing for two weeks. Rowe looks up at me with her eyes wide; clearly her tone surprised her as well.

“Sorry, that…that came out harsh,” she says, pushing against my hip to sit up in front of me. “I just meant you should call; she’s missing you.” Her words have a strange smile on Ty’s face, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he was blushing. “You should have invited her to come too, you know. She wanted to come.”

Ty just nods at her, his lips tight and his face reverent. “Yeah, I probably should have. I’m…kind of new…at this?” Ty shrugs and we all sit still, sort of soaking in what has suddenly become a strange serious environment for the three of us, which Ty, of course, is the first to break. “Anywho…gonna go see if she wants to have phone sex. So, goodnight all.”

Ty is gone for about fifteen seconds before he’s back, gently tossing Cookie in one hand, a sinister chuckle crackling in his chest. “Well, look what we have here,” he says, looking down at the small bear in his hand before he brings it up to his nose to take in its scent. He laughs a little louder when he does, and finally looks up at me, and then to Rowe, pointing at her. “You…you just got lucky there, sister. The dryer sheet…yeah. That was a nice touch. Might have just saved you a world of hurt,” he trails off, turning around and going back in his room where he closes the door.

“Your brother’s weird,” she says, leaning into me slowly.