“Good. Do you want to see my tea set?”

“Sure.”

There’s a soft knock at the door, and Wyatt peeks their head in. “Am I interrupting?”

“Just having some afternoon tea,” I say, leaving the teddy bear on the bed.

“Lana, can I borrow Neil for a second?”

“Are you going to go make out?” Lana sticks her tongue out like she’s disgusted.

“No, just want to talk to him for a bit.”

“Okay!”

I stand up, making sure there’s no leftover slime on my hands before I follow Wyatt down the hall.

“I talked with Mama. She and Mom are already okay with you staying until we go back on Sunday. If that’s cool.”

“Yeah, should be okay,” I say. “I’ve got to call Mom, see if she can get my suitcase and mail it back to me.”

“It sounds like the two of you made up.”

“We’re on the right track, I think.”

“That’s good. Is that backpack seriously all you carried?”

“I needed to make the flight.”

“Unbelievable.” Wyatt hangs their head, shaking it. “Well, you can either sleep on the couch, or—”

They open a door at the end of the hallway, and there’s no mistaking this room as anything other than Wyatt’s bedroom. It’s small, longer than it is wide, with their bed tucked in one corner. There’s a desk where their laptop sits, an acoustic guitar and a larger electric one with an old-looking amp tucked in the corner. There are posters all over the wall, advertising for Hayley Williams and Phoebe Bridgers and Lil Nas X and Harry Styles and Day6 and a bunch of others. Some pictures too, all taped to the wall.

“We’ve got an air mattress; you can sleep in here.”

“Already trying to get me into bed?”

“Shut up.” They chuckle. “You can sleep in here or have Lana wake you up every morning on a lumpy couch. Your choice.”

“This could be comfortable. The couch wasn’t that bad, though,” I say, moving toward their bed, sitting on the edge. “Though, if I’m a guest, shouldn’t I get the bed?”

“Don’t press your luck, Kearney.”

I imagine this scenario where I pull them down to me and we fall onto the bed. They’re on top of me and the tension is high, and we kiss. They smell sweet. But we’re taking things slow. I have to remember that.

Slow.

I pull away.

“So, this is your room?” I ask.

“As far as I’m aware.”

“Shut up.”

I look around, taking it all in. Then I notice that there’s something behind their door, hanging on the wall. “What is that?”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”