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“Isaac, there's no way all three of us can fit in there.”
“Yes we can,” Isaac says, sitting down on the edge of his bed. The mattress squeaks underneath him. It’s a single, sandwiched between a wall and a wobbly nightstand, and while it may look large in the cramped dorm room, the fact remains that it is still a single. It is not a bed designed to be shared. Allison may be drunk (although, to be fair, they're all a little drunk), but she just knows that the three of them are not going to fit in it.
“I think she’s right,” Scott says with a soft frown. It’s the first time Allison has seen him do anything but smile all night. He tilts his head slightly and does something with his hands, some fluttery gesture, like he’s trying to draw how they might fit in front of his eyes. “Maybe if you weren’t so tall.”
“I can’t help that,” Isaac mutters, pulling his shirt over his head and yanking the sheets back. He slides underneath them and moves over until his back is pressed against the wall. “C'mon, turn off the light and get in here. Unless you want to walk back to your apartment.”
As uncomfortable as Isaac’s bed looks, it’s still better than the second option. The apartment Allison shares with Scott is a twenty minute walk away, across campus and through darkened streets. It’s a bad enough route when sober, let alone when she’s drank enough to be slightly lightheaded.
“Fine,” she says, unclipping her bra and pulling it out from underneath her tank top. “But if I fall out and give myself a concussion, one of you is taking me to the hospital.”
“You can have the middle,” Scott says, wobbling slightly as he crosses the room to turn off the light. When he comes back, Allison kisses him on the cheek and steadies herself on his shoulder as she slips out of her shorts as well. She stubs her toe off the edge of Isaac’s bed and curses as she falls back against the mattress.
“This isn’t going to work,” she insists. Even when pressed completely against Isaac’s side, she can feel the edge of the bed at her back, which means there definitely isn't enough room for Scott.
But that’s before Isaac grabs her shoulder and gently rolls her on top of him.
“What about now?” he asks, tucking the blankets around her shoulders. It takes her a moment to get herself situated but finally, she finds a comfortable spot, with her head tucked under his chin and their legs tangled together. Her ankles are still dangling over the edge of the bed and she knows she's likely to have a horrible kink in her neck come morning but still, beggars can’t be choosers.
"Better," she murmurs, tilting her head up to press a kiss to the underside of his chin. His hand smooths down the back of her head and she sighs contently as his long fingers gently twist into the thin hair at the base of her neck.
“I think this will work,” Scott says, sliding underneath the covers and draping one arm over Allison’s back. His fingers gently brush against her hip and the touch is enough to make her shiver. “As long as no one moves.”
"No promises," Isaac mumbles, his voice already thick with sleep.
The last thing Allison hears before she falls asleep is someone murmur I love you.
She's not quite sure who says it. It might have even been her.
&.
When Allison wakes up three hours later to the first gray rays of morning sun, her mouth tastes and feels like sand. Her whole body seems composed of aching bones and there's drool crusted on her cheek. Isaac is still fast asleep, quietly snoring, face turned towards the wall. His hand is still resting on her back, between her shoulder blades. Scott is half-hanging off the bed, one twitch away from falling to the floor.
With stiff limbs, she reaches out, wraps her hand around his hip and tugs, until he wakes up enough to move back over. He presses his face into Isaac's shoulder and mumbles something before falling quiet and still once more. She watches him for a few moments, watches his eyelids flutter and his breath gently stir the sheets.
Eventually, she falls back asleep with Isaac’s heartbeat thumping in her ear and Scott’s warm skin pressed against her palm.
(The bed may be a bit of a tight squeeze, but there's nowhere else she'd rather be.)