We arrive back at our dorm just as it becomes fully dark outside. “What should we do now?” Sara says, as we approach my room.

I unlock the door and step inside. It is quiet, which makes sense for a Friday night, when most of my suitemates are out somewhere. I peek into my room, but my roommate is nowhere to be found.

“Whatever you want to do,” I say.

She steps toward me, toward my bedroom. She peeks in the door, toward the two beds, both lofted into the air.

“There’s been something I’ve really been wanting to do...” Sara says, a mischievous smile on her face.

And so, we build a blanket fort.

“I feel like the loft beds create a perfect opportunity,” Sara says, as she reaches up to tuck my blanket into one of the slats.

I set down two cups of Baileys and hot chocolate on the desk and wait for further instructions, since she is clearly the one art directing this adventure.

She turns around. “Can you tie that there?” she asks, holding a blanket corner. “I can’t reach.”

I nod and we switch places. She takes a sip from her hot chocolate. I reach up and tie the blanket to the slat of my bed.

With a poof, a pillow smacks me in the butt. I turn around to see Sara, my throw pillow in her hand and a sparkle in her eyes.

“What was that for?” I ask.

She shrugs. “You have a cute butt.”

I roll my eyes. Gesturing toward the makeshift tent that now connects the two beds, I ask, “Is this what you had in mind?”

She nods and bends down to step inside the fort, mug in hand.

I follow her. Inside, some of the florescent light from my overhead fixture filters in, but mostly it is shadowy and dark blue. Sara has laid my comforter across the floor and added a few pillows we had stolen from her room as well.

We both sit down. I take a sip of my drink, the sweetness of the hot chocolate mixing with the slight burn of the alcohol, and then set it down carefully on the blanket.

“This is exactly what I needed,” she says, leaning back onto the pillows. “I feel like a kid again.”

“Hopefully you didn’t have Baileys in your hot chocolate as a kid.”

She rolls her eyes, but a smile plays at the edge of her lips. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” I say. “The blanket fort is definitely a throwback. A small break from being baby CEOs.”

“Oh,” she says. “That reminds me. We never officially laid out what our jobs would be, besides Braden as CFO I guess, which doesn’t even matter now.”