Being on a school trip to some camp wasn’t a big deal.

What was a big deal was that the room was freezing.

And Jackie hated the cold.

You, on the other hand? Lucky you didn’t mind it. You actually liked it. Ever since starting T, your body ran warmer than it used to, and the chill just made hoodies feel that much better. For you, the cold was a cozy kind of quiet; for Jackie, it was a personal vendetta from the weather gods.

Right now, you were sprawled on the bottom bunk, DS in hand, locked in a Mario Kart showdown with Jackie. She was up top, complaining for the tenth time about how her fingers were going numb.

Then, without warning, her head popped over the side of the bunk. “I’m freezing,” she announced, as if you could do anything about it.

Before you could even respond, she dropped down from her bunk with the kind of graceless thud only Jackie could pull off, padded over in her socks, and wedged herself right onto your bed.

You tilted the DS slightly, frowning. “Uh—?” She ignored you completely, tugging the edge of your hoodie up. “Lift your arm.”

“What—”

“Just lift it.”

You sighed and raised your arm, and in one quick move she ducked under your hoodie, pressing herself flush against your side. The cold radiated off her in waves, making you flinch.

“You’re freezing,” you muttered.

“That’s literally what I’ve been telling you!” she snapped, muffled from inside the hoodie.

With her tucked in like that, her legs bent over your lap, her head and shoulders pressing into your chest, you could barely see the DS screen. She had wedged herself halfway between lying on you and curling into you, one leg swinging lazily off the side of the bed. The position was ridiculous—like she was trying to be your personal human blanket but had no idea how blankets worked.

She picked Princess Peach again, of course. You went for Donkey Kong.

“Nope. Mario,” she said immediately.

You groaned. “Why do you care who I play as?”

“Mario and Peach belong together, duh.”

“That’s not even—” You stopped mid-sentence when she pinched your side under the hoodie. “Ow! Okay, fine.” You switched to Mario.

She made a satisfied little hum, then started the race.

The game went on in a haze of smack talk and muffled laughter, her cold toes brushing your thigh every now and then. You couldn’t even be mad about losing a few rounds—she was grinning under your hoodie, and every time she laughed, you felt it in your chest.

Halfway through the next race, she said softly, “You’re warm.”

You glanced down at the lump of Jackie-shaped fabric under your hoodie. “…And you’re annoying.”

She only snorted and pressed in closer. “Yeah, but I’m less cold now.”