"Stay."
"Yes, ma'am." And he made a show of becoming hard, statue-like on the edge of my bed.
I hopped up, grabbing my pajamas from off the floor, my bag of toiletries out of the dark. I left the light off and slipped out, closing the door.
I could hear the sound of the TV rising up the stairs. I banged against the bathroom door loudly, so Charlie wouldn't accidentally walk in on me.
I meant to hurry. I brushed my teeth fiercely, going Speedy Gonzales on the remaining traces of bacon lasagna. But the hot water of the shower couldn't be rushed. It unknotted the muscles in my back, calmed my pulse. The familiar smell of my shampoo made me feel like I might be the same person I had been this morning, although I wasn't. I tried not to think of the day, of our hike, his skin, my lips... I shook my head, trying not to think of where it was all leading up to, of Fredward sitting on my bed, waiting, because then I had to start all over with the calming process.
Finally, I couldn't delay anymore. I shut off the water, toweling hastily, rushing again. Fredward wouldn't mind if I was a little wet. I pulled on my holey t-shirt286 and gray sweatpants. Too late to regret not packing the Victoria's Secret silk pajamas, the ones my mother had bought me for my first day of high school. I wondered if I'd even need them anymore.
I rubbed the towel through my hair again, taking care with each strand, and then yanked the brush through it quickly. I threw the towel in the hamper, flung my brush and toothpaste into the trash. Then I dashed down the stairs so Chucky Charles could see that I was in my pajamas, with wet hair.
"'Night, Dad."
"'Night, Bella." He did look startled by my appearance. Maybe that would keep him from checking on me tonight.
286. The one with holes over the nipples. Conversely, the one that has holes everywhere except the nipples.