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“Hey sexy have I ever told you how much I like your.. eyes?!”
“Fatin, Shelby is literally holding my hand. She’s not going to leave so you can share a room with me.”
“Fine Toni be homophobic.”
Dot groans somewhere in the background and Leah pats their shoulder consolingly. The same joke on loop for the entire stay is a bit much, but the lighthearted teasing is a good reprieve from the trauma. God. Leah still can’t believe they’re out of both the island and the containment center. Sometimes she wonders if this is just another trick, but then Dot bumps their shoulder against hers and she is able to breathe. She figures she should do as much of that as possible before she is stuck in a dusty room with at least one other person. Somehow the government agents couldn’t find a big enough hotel for all of them so now they’re on their way to “Simon’s Sleeptime Space,” as if the name itself doesn’t make Leah want to turn around and go back to the island.
The van shudders to a stop and then gives one last jolt, toppling them to the floor. Someone’s foot is dangerously near Leah’s mouth and her leg is trapped under what appears to be Rachel, though it’s hard to tell in the jumble of body parts. Fatin’s head is the first to pop up. She turns to Rachel. “Hey, you don’t really want to share with your sister right? I’d be a fantastic bed partner!”
“No Fatin. Also, that sounded way too much like an innuendo. Please just stop.”
“It was an innuendo.”
Leah pulls herself up and Dot squishes beside her. A chill runs over her and she turns to see Dot with their mouth open. “We-”
“NO,” interrupts Leah, but it’s too late, Fatin is smirking and Leah swears she can feel the temperature dropping. Oh well, at least she’ll be cool before she burns to death sharing a twin bed with two other people. Honestly, do the government agents have it out for them or are they just plain incompetent?
They stumble out and into the sunlight and Leah shields her eyes. After a second for her eyes to adjust, she’s staring at the grimiest building she’s ever seen. She can’t tell whether the sickly grey is the paint color or dirt, and she’s pretty sure she doesn’t want to. The inside isn’t much better.
The lobby is barely big enough for all- eight of them, and their baggage. The driver has wisely disappeared. A lone worker sits, or rather slouches at the front desk. Fatin slams the bell and he wakes with a jolt and a snort.
“Welcome to Simon’s Sleeptime Space!”
There’s an awkward shuffle to get keycards and then they’re heading to their rooms. Room 27 looms at the end of the hallway. Leah feels like the lead in a shitty horror film. If it’s the stereotypical kind Fatin would probably be the first to die, but then at least Leah and Dot would have the room to themselves. Leah definitely doesn’t have any resentment towards Fatin from their last Monopoly game. It’s just a stupid capitalist propaganda game and holds no meaning whatsoever, so winners should stop bragging, okay?
Fatin is the first to go in (Leah’s leaving if she hears a scream) and the first thing out of her mouth is, “The room seems to be going for the “I went out of style 30 years ago” theme.” Leah grudgingly laughs and puts the fact that Fatin was definitely cheating out of her mind. It’s just one night and then they get home, she can live with it.
A quick glance at the dusty bedside clock shows that it’s 11:30 (that is if the clock isn’t totally broken) and no one has the energy to stay up. After the island and the containment center, privacy feels like a distant memory so they change where they are and then their heads are hitting the pillows. Dot, as the shortest, is in the middle, and Leah’s grateful for the chance to stick a foot out the side, but then something touches it and she screams.
“What?! What?!”
The light is flicked on and Leah sheepishly stares down at her bag. She hates how paranoid she’s become. She wishes she could sleep in the middle like she used to in her parents’ bed when she was small, but asking makes her feel too vulnerable. Fatin whispers something to Dot and Leah can feel the fingers they want to be pointing, but then Dot rolls over and offers her their spot.
Tucked in between them, Leah never wants to move. An ache just below her ribs fades. Fatin’s hand in hers and Dot’s arm around her shoulders feel like the missing pieces to her puzzle. Leah is filled with so much love she can hardly breathe. God, how did she get this lucky? As if they can hear her thoughts Dot and Fatin squeeze her a little tighter, and she squeezes them right back.