Head Over Feels

“I am. He offered, and I accepted. We’re a match made in roommate heaven.” I fold the flaps of a box down while Cammie drags tape along the seam. Realizing how that might be taken the wrong way, I add, “As friends, of course. Friendly roommates. That’s all. Nothing to see or discuss. We probably won’t even see each other much. Just two friends—”

“We get it.” She winks at Marlow. “It’s platonic.” Double wink. My mouth drops open as she grins and adds, “No one thinks otherwise, Teals.”

Marlow relaxes on the couch, shoes on the floor, her legs tucked under her, and her shoulders shaking with laughter. “I’m happy that worked out. I told him the other day to help me convince you to stay. I guess he worked his magic.” She smiles mischievously and then clicks her tongue and winks.

“Okay. Okay. Enough. He’s not working any magic on me,” I snap. “It’s only temporary, and he has a spare room, so—”

Cammie laughs. “I think you’re handling it great. Keep calm and carry on and all that.” She points the tape dispenser at me. “I mean, why would you feel otherwise? Just because you’re moving in with the one guy you’ve crushed on forever . . . What could go wrong?” She stands, looking at me expectantly with the tape dispenser, ready to battle the next box.

Marlow adds, “When so much could go right.” Remembering how he said my body has so much right with it has my cheeks heating. I play it off as frustration.

“There is not going to be any wrong or right with Rad. We’re friends. You guys know this better than anyone.” I busy myself with the box flaps to avoid their stares and the questions I spy populating in their eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about this,” Cammie starts, worrying her lip. “Are you sure moving in with him is a wise idea? This will either bring you closer or destroy a good friendship. It could ruin . . .” She catches herself before she says the words.

I say them instead. “The group dynamic. I worry about that, too, but I can’t live on your couch.” Trying to lighten the mood, I add, “Cade made it more than clear that you two have christened that thing fifty times over. Anyway, you guys need your couple time, alone.” Reaching across the box, I squeeze her hand. “So it wasn’t even an option to ask.”

Marlow pushes off the futon and holds the flaps in place. “I want to help.”

“Then help,” Cammie snaps, causing Marlow to recoil. “Grab another box and get to it.” The screeching of the tape breaks the standoff of silence that follows.

Reaching down, she lifts a box to the top of the stack and says, “Cade’s right. The stress is getting to you.”

After Cammie zips the tape over the top, she sets the tape down and hugs Marlow. “I’m sorry. I’m the worst.”

“You’re not the worst. You’re awesome. You just have a lot going on. We’ll get through it, and so will you, and then you’ll live happily ever after.”

When they both finish hugging, and the tension evaporates, I move a box to a stack by the door.

She peeks inside a box on the bed and says, “I would have offered my couch, but it’s really not made for sleeping.”

Cammie and I exchange a knowing look, and then she laughs. “It’s not even made for sitting. It’s for looks, Marlow, and the most impractical sofa ever.” The red velvet couch is so overstuffed, it’s stiff, hard like a rock. Sleeping on it would be impossible.

“I like what I like.” Marlow shrugs. “And I’m rarely home to ruin it.” Swift to change the topic of conversation, she asks, “How’s the wedding planning?”

Cammie bends to tape down the edges of an extra-full box. “Good. I think. I don’t know. I promised myself I wouldn’t worry about it tonight, and Cade told me to take the week off from it. Everything that needs to be done is done, so he’s right. I should.” She laughs to herself, but anxiety weaves through the sound. “I just worry everything’s going to fall apart. He’s been a good sport, though, and is just worried about me.”

“I think Cade’s right. Nothing will happen this week to ruin your whole wedding. If something comes up, we have months to get it fixed. Just let us know, and we’ll help.”

“Thanks. I’m going to try to focus back on life this week, give myself time to decompress.” Since all the boxes are taped up, Cammie moves into the kitchen and opens a cabinet. “We’re on for Saturday too. You secured the storage unit?” She gasps.

Her gasp causes both me and Marlow to startle. With my hand over my thumping heart, I ask, “What?”

“Where are your mugs?”

“Oh, good lord, Cammie. You scared me.” I start to giggle. “I sent them with Rad last night.”