Calmly, Carefully, Completely(69)

“Need some help?” he asks. He walks toward me and drops down.

“I think I’ve done just about all I can do with the floor.” I look down at my pajamas and cross my arms in front of my chest. I don’t even have on a bra.

Pete grins and looks away like a gentleman. I’m wearing a tank top and tiny shorts that my dad would freak out if he saw. I’m not even allowed to leave my room when I’m wearing them. I go into the bathroom and wash my hands really quick. I walk back out and find Pete looking around my room. He touches a music box on my dresser. He opens the top, and a ballet dancer stands up and twirls around to the tune of a song. He smiles and looks over his shoulder at me. “It’s pretty,” he says. “Kind of like you.” His eyes roam down my body, and he licks his lips.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

He startles for a second. “I wanted to see you. Your mom said I could come up.”

That makes me smile. “Does my dad know you’re here?”

He shakes his head. “He wasn’t downstairs.”

I have a feeling that Dad wouldn’t like Pete being in my room. Particularly with the way I’m dressed. “If I’d known it was you, I would have dressed,” I try to explain. My gaze skitters to the bed, where a hoodie lies balled up. I usually sleep in it, and I pull it over my head and down past my hips.

Pete’s eyes narrow at me. “That sweatshirt looks familiar,” he says. His eyes grow wide. “Is that the one I gave you that night?” he asks.

I nod. “Yeah.” I kept it. And I love it. “Do you want it back?”

He grins. “If it means you’re going to take it off, then hell yeah, I want it back.”

Heat creeps up my face. I reach to pull it over my head, and I close my eyes to do it, but suddenly, Pete stops my motion with his hands.

“I was just kidding,” he says. “Keep it.”

I nod and tug it back down over my hips.

“I’m surprised you still want it, considering how you ended up with it.” His brow furrows.

“You’re the only good thing that happened to me that night, Pete,” I say.

He opens his mouth to say something but shuts it quickly.

“I sleep in it.” I lift the neckline to my nose. “It used to smell like you, until my mom made me wash it.” I have a small futon in my room, and I motion toward it. “Do you want to sit down?” I ask.

He nods, but he has gone back to assessing my room. He drags his fingertips down the winning horseback-riding ribbons that line my mirror. I sit down and cross my feet under me. I stick a pillow into the space and rest my elbows on it. Pete wanders toward my bathroom and sticks his head inside. “I think your room is bigger than our whole apartment,” he says.

I don’t know what to say to that, so I say nothing.

“When you go back to school, will you be in the dorm?” He sits down on the other end of the futon. He turns to face me, and his knee brushes mine. I like it, so I inch closer.

“I have an apartment across from campus,” I say. “Dad didn’t want me in the dorm, and I wanted to take Maggie back and forth with me after what happened.” Maggie hears her name and wanders toward me, slipping her nose beneath my hand. I absently rub her head. “I don’t like to be alone at night.”

Pete makes a kissy noise with his mouth, and Maggie wanders toward him. She’s wary, but she’s not afraid. He lets her sniff his hand and touches the top of her head gingerly. She pushes herself into his path, and he scratches behind her ears.