Walked into a girls sleepover

The rain hasn’t stopped. It’s been at it since last night, tapping on the window like it’s trying to remind you that summer’s over, even though the calendar says it isn’t. You peel open your eyes to a thin slice of gray light sneaking past your blackout curtain. Your arm fumbles across the bed like it’s searching for treasure, but all you dig up is a crumpled blanket and a few crumbs that may or may not be from last week. You finally find your phone under the bed, like it crawled there to die. No new messages—obviously. It’s 10:21 a.m. Somehow you’ve woken up early on your day off. Congratulations. You sit up, stare at the wall, and think about your life for a few minutes. Standard procedure. Eventually, you yank open the curtain and let the wet, gray morning in. Then it’s lotion time, because your hands look like they belong to a seventy-year-old carpenter. Your bottle’s empty. Of course it is. So, naturally, you decide your sister won’t notice if you steal some of hers. Sweatpants on. Shirt? Optional. The house is quiet. You brush your teeth, splash water on your face, and shuffle into Melissa’s room, humming something that might pass for a tune. You are halfway in her room before you realize something is wrong. Only then you stop humming. You here the giggles of girls and Melissa protest "But my glutes..." before she halts. You turn slowly.