You could still hear the muffled chaos from the living room—someone shouting over a movie, someone else laughing way too hard at a joke that probably wasn’t funny. Typical group sleepover energy.

You’d survived the evening by avoiding Theodore like the plague. Not that it was easy. He had a talent for being everywhere you didn’t want him to be.

Now, finally, you had a moment to breathe. The bedroom wasn’t huge, but it was at least quiet.

The shower was tucked into a corner of the room. Just a few minutes under hot water—that was all you needed. You locked the bathroom door behind you, stripped down, and let the water pound against your skin.

It was the first time all day that you felt alone.

But that moment didn’t last.

You stepped out of the bathroom, still towel-damp, hair dripping onto your shoulders, and then froze.

He was there.

Theodore.

Sitting on the edge of the bed like he belonged there.

His backpack was tossed lazily by the wall, his phone charging next to yours like this had been planned. He didn’t even look up at first, just leaned back on one elbow, scrolling.

You stared at him, stunned into silence for a moment too long.

“What are you doing here?” you snapped.

He looked up, finally, and there it was—that smug half-smile you hated. The one that made you want to throw things. “Nice to see you too,” he said.

“No. No, no, no. You’re in the wrong room.”

“Afraid not,” he replied, completely unbothered. “I checked. Twice. Our lovely friends decided we’d be sharing. Apparently there were... ‘limited options.’”

You stared at him. “They put us in the same room? After all day listening to us argue?”

Theodore leaned back further onto the bed, arms crossed behind his head. “Guess they thought we needed to ‘work it out.’ Group bonding, you know?”

You wanted to scream. “I’m not sharing a bed with you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Cool. You taking the floor, then?”

“This is not happening,” you muttered.

“Look,” Theodore said, sitting up now. “I don’t like this either. If it makes you feel better, I’d rather sleep in a pit of snakes than be in the same room as you.”

You blinked. That, at least, felt real. Honest.

“Good,” you said. “Then shut up, stay on your side, and we might both survive the night.”

He didn’t answer. Just turned off his phone, rolled over with his back to you, and muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘unbelievable.’

You climbed into the bed and kept as much distance between you as humanly possible.

One night. That’s all it was.

One night.

Right?