I sit up and shove the blankets away, sitting cross-legged on the mattress to face Ozzie, who pivots in my direction.
“He died right before I came to Pine Mountain. He helped me enroll. He helped me…figure out how to pay for all of it. He was the only one who believed in me.”
I talk a bit about Khaz because it feels good to talk about him to another person. It feels good to talk about him, specifically with Ozzie. I haven’t breathed Khaz’s name much since I moved into Beta Beta Psi.
When I tell him about the tree house and all the other things Khaz did for me throughout my life, Ozzie responds with a sleepy voice. “After everything you went through, I’m glad someone was looking out for you, Mila. And in case you haven’t figured it out, I’m here for you now.”
“I shouldn’t let you get too attached. There’s so much you don’t know, Ozzie. There’s a lot I can’t tell you…yet.”
“None of my feelings are gonna change no matter what.”
Groaning, I pull my knees into my chest. “You say that now.”
I feel him stand up from the bed. Finally, he’s letting it drop.
But a moment later, the mattress sinks and creaks under his weight again, and I feel him next to me. Oh. Oh, shit.
Ozzie’s arm snakes around my middle, and he cinches me close. “Now is all we have, Mila. Remember that. Good night.”
My body knows and understands living in the moment. It wants to drape itself in the comfort. The groundedness. But my mind? All over the place.
And that person who grounds and comforts me is now pulling away, getting up, giving me my much-needed space in this bed.
Before I can stop, I say what my heart wants.
“Do you want to share the bed with me?”
Ozzie freezes, turning back to look at me. I can’t see his expression in the dark, so the waiting is a brief few seconds of torture.
“Only if you want—”
“I want you to share the bed with me tonight, Ozzie,” I interrupt.