A Real Sleepover

Charlie stares at the pile of supplies resting on his bed. He really should get some sleep if he’s going to be… living up to his name tomorrow. But if anyone deserves it, it’s that fucking onion. But where can he sleep?

He sighs. He doesn't want to disturb Noor, and he's too afraid of everyone else to ask. He doesn't want to sleep anywhere without a door.

Ah.

Thandi will help him. He raps on the door, “Thandi?”

“Yes? It’s open!”

He opens the door to find Thandi at her desk, the oil lamp washing her papers in a soft golden light. Her hair is no longer in the familiar style, but rather she wears box braids. She has turned to face him and smiles brightly before standing. “Hi, Charlie! How are you?”

He blinks, registering for a moment the different silhouette. “You changed your hair,” he says, a touch incredulous. “Er. Not that it's bad, just surprising. Um. Er.” He rubs his neck. “May I sleep in here? My bed is… covered.”

Her brows rise. “Ah. First, thank you. Casimir helped me with it. I just needed a change. Second, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize your bed had been commandeered. I. I think you can stay here, yes. I. Oh!” She waves her hand and a bundle of fabric appears in her hands. “I have a bedroll! So, yes. You can have the bed. I’ll take the floor!”

“O-oh, I can sleep on the floor! You can keep your bed. It's okay.” He steps inside, closing the door behind him at last. “No, no! That’s okay!” She stands and unfurls her bedroll to set on the floor. “See? When having a sleepover, it’s polite to give the guest the bed! I think. Ahh. The rules are divided on this, actually. But I think it’s only fair.” She chuckles. “It’ll be a real sleepover! Oh! Wait!” She waves her wand and her bonnet appears in her free hand. She ties up her hair and tucks her hair into it, smiling all the while. “There. Now it’s a sleepover.”

Charlie laughs a bit and nods. He approaches the bed, mincing around Thandi delicately. “Thank you for letting me sleep in here. I. I think it would bother Noor too much if I borrowed her floor. And everyone else, um. I don't trust. So. Thank you.”

Thandi nods. “I’m glad you trust me enough. Don’t worry, you’re safe and sound here. And you’ve even got me on the floor to grab any intruders.” She holds out her hands as if grabbing an invisible ankle.

Again, Charlie finds himself laughing as he slides off his boots. “Seems you're taking care of me tonight. I appreciate that. You'll get rid of any would-be touchers and grabbers.”

“I can’t imagine there would be any here but yes. I’ll keep guard.” She stretches her legs out on the bedroll. “Were you wanting to go to sleep now? I was actually just finishing up some notes. Will… Will it bother you?”

“Not at all! I'm the one intruding. Please do.” He lays down, watching her. Watching the sway of some baby hair at her nape. Her pillow… smells nice.

Oof, that's a fucking thought. He pulls the blanket up, idling. Watching. Looking away. Watching again. She finally closes her book and turns out her lamp. She’s already dressed for bed— though, her day dress is more like an Istrian nightgown than actual outerwear. But this dress is a little different, at least.

She climbs down to the bedroll and sits, smiling up at him. “Should we play a game?”

“A game? What sort of game?” He finds himself getting a bit nervous. What sort of games do people like her play at night? The tension makes his stomach cramp.

“Like what we played the other night! Truth or dare, or… maybe twenty questions? Ahhh. What other sleepover games have I seen… two truths and a lie? There’s tons! And—“ She lowers her voice, “we can whisper them so the others don’t hear us.”

The tension dissipates and Charlie laughs. “Okay. Pick one game. There's a lot happening tomorrow so if we can sleep, we should try… but we can play every time we end up together like this.”

“I suppose it may happen again if we’re going on an adventure. Hmm…” She rustles about in the dark and he’s sure he can hear her moving closer. Then her voice is a whisper but much closer than before. “Okay, let’s play twenty questions. You have to pick something that exists that we both know what it is. And then I ask you twenty questions about the thing. You can answer: yes, no, sometimes, or another singular word that doesn’t give it away. So, best example: I choose the word tomato but I don’t tell you. So you would ask something like: Is it edible? To which I’d say, yes! And we go back and forth like that until you get it or hit twenty questions!”

“Alright, that sounds good. Shall I pick the word, or you? I've never played, so it might be… imprecise.”

“I’ll pick the first word. One second.” She takes a deep breath. After a few seconds, she finally says, “Okay. Ask away!”

“Is it organic?”

“Ahhh… no.”

“Can I pick it up in one hand?”

“Yes!”

“Is it something you use every day?”

She’s quiet… “Nnnnno.”

“Hm… have I seen you use it?”

She snorts. “No.”

This game is getting hard. He racks his brain. “I should have asked if it was usable at all, but… hm. Are you bringing it on the trip?”

She sighs. “I’m giving you this because it’s your first time playing. Answer: not me.”

“Oh. Um. So, one of us is bringing it on the trip?”

“Yes. And that counts as another question!”

“Damn. Okay. What are we at… six. Is it wearable?”

She gasps. “Yes!”

“Does it come as a pair?”

“Nope!” He can hear her smiling.

“Urgh… um… who is bringing it?”

“You!”

“Me? Oh, shit. Um… Is it an accessory?”

“Yes!”

“Is it my bolo?”

“Yes! You did it! You’re good at this!” She actually sits up and he can see her at the edge of the bed, grinning at him. Even in the dim light coming through the window, he can see her.

“You're so excited. It's… endearing. Cute, even.” Ah. He said it aloud. He hasn't been keeping his words in check lately and… well. Hrm.

“C…! Um! Oh! I—! Hah! Aaaah…” She returns to the bedroll and his eyes have adjusted enough to let him see her settling in. “I don’t know about that. But thank you. You’re… You’re cute, too?”

He snorts a laugh. “Ah. I see the feeling is mutual. Regarding our own… cute. Ness. Er. I do think you're quite cute, like a small animal sort of cute. Me, well— I suppose if you think of me like a little… rat. Or a cat. Perhaps.”

“You did make an adorable kitty cat. That was so fun. You know I’ve never even seen a cat before? Not in reality, anyway.” He can see her feet tapping a bit nervously. “But you’re cute like one, yes. Though, I realize now maybe you don’t want to be cute? Where I’m from, people don’t like to be cute once they reach a certain age. It’s not good to be seen as… well. Like you said, a small animal.”

“Oh. I'm sorry. Did it offend you, for me to say it like that? I, um. It's just… your eyes, they're so dark and bright at the same time. And you have quite the energy. Enthusiasm. It makes one want to pet your head.”

She giggles. “I… I don’t mind it. I think it’s okay. I always liked cute things so… to be cute, it’s nice.” She keeps tapping her feet, the bedroll blanket squeaking a bit with each tap. “I know you don’t like it but I’d pat your head, too.”

“Maybe I can do a pat on the shoulder. You don't seem like you would touch me in any way I dislike. I think I can trust you.”

“Really? You’d… Ahh. But. But w… why? I mean. I’m happy. I’ve worked really hard to gain everyone’s trust but I’m just…curious?”

“Mm. Well, you… don't frighten me. I don't really worry about you crossing the line. It's just something I've noticed. You respect what I say. Even if I say some fucking dumb shit sometimes.”

“Like calling my mentor mean names?”

“I feel the Onion deserves my ire.”

She sighs. “I wish you all could have met in different circumstances. She…” Her feet have ceased their tapping. The room grows silent as Thandi searches for her words. “She’s done so much for me.”

“I wish you could see it from my perspective. I can’t force it, of course. But she doesn't… respect you. It's hard to watch. Hard to look at. Hard to hear. Especially since you like her so much. And she just… well. Hrm.” Charlie shifts to the edge of the bed and reaches down to tap her shoulder lightly. “We don't have to talk about it.”

She’s quiet for another moment, then says, “Thank you. You’re… You’re very kind.” Then she turns her head to smile up at him. Somehow he can see it. And something in her eyes. Then she asks in that whisper, “Is this what they mean by ‘good bedside manner’?”

“Oof, no. This is just… being… friends. My bedside manner still leaves much to be desired, at least according to Elombé. Listen… everything will be fine. We'll manage. You'll do fine.”

She sighs and closes her eyes. “Right. It’ll be fine. It’ll all… be fine.” She’s quiet for a long while and just as he starts to doze, he hears a quiet, “Thank you, Charlie. I’ll do my best.”

He squeezes her shoulder, leaves his hand there. “I know you will.”

Her hand actually rests over his, hesitant at first, ready to pull away. But when he doesn’t move, her hand settles. It’s warm, even through his gloves.

How nice.

How nice…

“Good night.”

“Night…” Her voice is already sleepy. How… nice.