micah eden was no stranger to sleepovers. he used to stay over at eliza martin’s house every weekend before he had a popularity spurt, partying rather than sitting in pillow forts and binging every single barbie movie.

ryder mckinnon and sidonie diletta, in their infinite wisdom, had conspired to blackmail you into joining their efforts to persuade micah to host a sleepover. then, the two bastards dropped out last minute, because paisley roscoe decided to throw sidonie a lavish yacht party for her nineteenth birthday; inconvenient.

micah preferred not to have friends over for a myriad of reasons. one, his brother vance's perennial, introverted angst would rile his baby half-brother, jay. jay would then proceed to hurl lego bricks at newcomers, which did occasionally cause damage. two, his stepmother, petra, was a right joy to be around, if joy could be defined as a dosage of snarky and otherwise transphobic comments.

either way, you did not particularly want to attend; sidonie and ryder were his friends, you were just an unwilling accomplice in what you had interpreted was a plot the former had concocted to force you and micah to become more amiable. but you felt bad about cancelling so, curse your misguided chivalry, you were sat on his carpet like a kindergartener during attendance.

“right.” micah muttered, more to himself than to you, as he carelessly tossed another navy pillow onto the bed. “that is the wall. you’ll sleep on the left side.”

your grimace did not go unnoticed, and he wrinkled his nose back at you, his light brown brows knitting together beneath a cascade of blond curls. “fine, you can sleep on the right side if you want. and it’s not my fault that jay stabbed a hole through the air mattress, mind you.”

he would’ve offered to sleep on the couch in the living room, but petra would flay him alive for leaving you unattended in her home. “we can get drinks from the fridge put on a movie and not speak for the rest of the evening, if that’ll make you less miserable.”