Page 79 of Pack Me Up
The door hisses open, and Colton breezes in like he owns the place. He’s carrying exactly nothing, just a soda and his phone, like he’s here to supervise.
“Whoa, H,” he says, eyebrows up. “I stopped by the car to grab more bags, and they were all gone. Why did you carry it all? Wasn’t that a little overboard?”
“It’s not overboard,” I snap, maybe a little too hard. “I wanted to get to work. It’s important.”
Colton holds up a hand. “Hey, not complaining. Just admiring the dedication.” He pops the can and sits cross-legged on the edge of the mattress, bouncing slightly to test the give. “Where do you want me?”
I nod at the stack of boxes. “Start with those. Open and fluff, but don’t, like… rip the tags off. I don’t want her to feel like she has to keep any of it.”
He grins, all teeth and dimples. “Right, because I’m sure the store will take it back once it’s covered in our scent.”
“Shut up.”
We work in silence for a while. It’s not awkward. I’ve never had a hard time working with Colton. I focus on layering the blankets in the exact order I remember from home: softest on top and then the thicker weighted ones on the bottom.
Colton assembles the pillow fort, lining the head of the bed with big squares and then building out with smaller, denser cushions. He takes his time with the order, and I know he’s taking this seriously.
“Remember when she scratched me for trying to take this one from her during her mini heat, or at least the copy of it at the house?” Colton says, tossing the pillow in my direction.
I catch it, fingers sinking in. “You deserved it.”
He laughs. “Probably. It left a little scar, though.” He hikes up his sleeve, shows a faint crescent on his bicep, like he’s proud. “Good times.”
Cody appears in the doorway, arms full of laundry. Not the folded, sensible kind; just an armload of t-shirts, hoodies, sweatpants, half of them inside-out, all of them stolen from various pack members over the last day.
“I’ve got our stuff,” he says.
“Perfect, start mixing it into the nest,” I direct, and he listens.
They’re letting me take the lead on this project, and their trust in me heals an old wound I’ve got, just from being the youngest.
He deposits the whole mess on the corner of the nest and then picks out his own first.
Colton bursts out laughing. “You’re going to pick the best spots for your stuff, aren’t you?”
Cody nods his head before putting the shirt right under her pillow in the middle.
“Won’t you benefit from that, too?” I ask. “You are twins after all.”
Colton and Cody smile so smugly I’m tempted to punch them in the gut.
“No, our perfect mate,” Colton starts, and Cody finishes, “Can tell our scents apart.”
Colton digs through the pile until he finds a shirt that smells just the same to me, but must be his instead of Cody’s. “Which means I’ll be finding the perfect spot for my clothes, too.”
I roll my eyes and let them fight over where everything goes while secretly feeling smug that I’m touching every pillow and blanket, which means my scent will already be everywhere.
The room’s starting to change already. The layered scents, colors, and fabrics make the place feel more like home.
I feel my own chest loosen, the anxiety from earlier dissolving.
Colton throws the clothes around, opposite to Cody’s careful folding. Cody glares at him, but instead of snapping, he just sighs and reroutes the chaos, smoothing the new arrangement with a resigned sort of patience.
For a few minutes, the three of us are just there, working together. There’s no bickering and no games. It’s just the slow, deliberate process of making something better than what we started with. Every so often, Colton cracks a joke or hums a few bars of one of Britney’s songs that we’ve been listening to while she practices, but mostly it’s quiet.
We keep going until the pile is gone, every item slotted into a place that makes sense to someone, even if only Cody. When he finally sits back, I look over the nest and feel a weird ache in my chest. It’s not just a bed anymore. It’s a statement, a promise, that no matter where we go, no matter what happens, she’s never going to be without us. Not for a second.
“Think she’ll like it?” Cody asks.
