“If you don’t like her shit on your floor she’s more than welcome to bring it to my room and leave it wherever she wants.”
Tyson. Tyson was here. I sighed in relief. I wasn’t uncomfortable around the twins but they didn’t make me feel the same level of comfort I got from being around Tyson. I think it stemmed from having met him first and spending the most amount of time with him outside of school. That and falling asleep next to him twice and waking up pressed up against him after sleeping cuddled up beside him.
“We don’t care about her clothes,” the twins said together. “We just don’t know why she threw them all over the place.”
It was weird listening to them speak as if they were the same person, with the same mind, thinking the same thoughts then speaking them out loud at the same time. It was bizarre, I tell you.
“What are you doing?” Tyson asked as he knelt beside me on the carpet.
Hmm… Did I come right out and tell him? Let’s try it on for size. Hey, Ty, I think your Uncle might have stolen my panties. Lord knows what his intentions are towards them, but whatever the case, it can’t be good.
I frowned. Yeah, that didn’t sound good to me, either. They both seemed quick to anger and I really didn’t want more drama heaped on top of the already overflowing pile.
“Ariel?”
I sighed again. This time not in relief. If I wasn’t honest with them then I’d likely end up looking like a crazy person and if Quinton really had stolen my underwear I didn’t want him to keep them. At the same time, depending on how long he had them, I wasn’t sure I really wanted them back.
This day, more than any day before it, was starting to turn into the longest day of my life.
“Ariel?”
Tyson was persistent, I’d give him that much.
“I think Quinton stole my underwear,” I told them honestly. When all else fails you, the truth is always the best way to go.
My cheeks burned and I knew they were bright red as I felt the three of them watching me. “You think my Uncle Quinton stole your panties?” Tyson spoke slowly, as if he were speaking to a child.
My face burned hotter. The fact that Quinton was Tyson’s Uncle made it sound that much dirtier. I
sucked up my embarrassment and explained to them why I thought Quinton had taken my underthings. When I was done speaking I looked up at all of them and found them all frowning at me.
“Why-” Abel’s mouth snapped shut abruptly, his green eyes filled with anger as he looked to his twin brother. “Let’s go find Quinton before he gets inspired.”
“I hear you, twin,” Addison growled low in his throat. “I hear you. Let’s go recover our sweet Ariel’s panties before Quint can work his magic on them.”
I thought about the way Addison phrased his words and frowned. Before, if someone had said something about working their magic on a pair of lady’s lacey underthings I would have assumed magic was a polite way of saying masturbation. Now the word magic frightened me. I’d seen what Quinton’s magic had done to Chucky, I did not want to find myself subject to it. No thank you.
The twins let me go and climbed to their feet. Without a backwards glance, they left the room. I felt weird about being alone in their bedroom with another guy and them not being here. Frankly, I felt weird about the whole situation. And very, very tired.
“Here,” Tyson picked up a flip flop. “Let me help you pick up your stuff. Then we can go and hide out in my room.”
I didn’t need to see another one of their rooms. What I needed to do was get the hell out of here.
Tyson picked up my bag and stuffed the flip flop inside. Next, he picked up the black bra by one of the straps and quickly stuffed it inside the big empty bag, too. This was beginning to get ridiculous.
Instead of helping him, I laid back on the carpet and spread my arms out wide at my sides. I had no intention of picking up after myself, someone else could do it.
I wanted to know about magic. I wanted to see actual physical proof with my own two eyes. Tyson owed me an explanation.
I made angels in the carpet as I heard him pick up my belongings. He never complained. He never asked me to stop what I was doing so I could rightfully pick up my own things. He simply moved around me quietly as he did it for me.
I liked Tyson. A lot.
“Alright,” he said as his hand appeared in front of my face. “I got all of your stuff picked up. Now let’s get out of here.”
I took his hand and allowed him to pull me to my feet. He had the thick straps of my white and pink bag over his shoulder.
When I got to my feet he didn’t let my hand go. He threaded his fingers through mine and gave my hand a gentle, but firm squeeze.