Page 61 of Trusting Easton

“I can’t believe you kept this.” I pick it up, smiling when I see my 5-year-old self in a baseball cap and jeans, wearing the red sweatshirt that matched Easton’s. Liz got them for us.

“Of course I kept it.” Easton comes up behind me. “I took it out after you showed up here on Thanksgiving. I didn’t have to keep hiding it after everyone found out about you.”

I turn to face him. “I still have the one of you. But it’s in my duffle bag in Ted’s car. I need to go get it.”

“I will, but not now.” He smiles at me. “You look like you’re feeling better.”

“A little. I’m definitely better than last night. It helped to get a good night’s sleep and a shower. And breakfast was really good.”

“You barely ate anything.”

“It’s more than I usually have.” I check the door to make sure we’re alone, then look back at Easton. “I can’t believe your mom’s letting me stay here. I keep thinking it’s a trick and she’s going to call someone to come get me.”

“She’s not. She likes you, and I can tell she’s worried about you.”

“But I thought she didn’t want us being friends.”

“Maybe she changed her mind.” He checks the door and lowers his voice. “Honestly, I was just as surprised as you that she let you stay, but she did, and now she can’t seem to do enough for you. I don’t know what’s going on with her.”

“She’s really nice. I like her.”

“Sorry about Jenna. She can be a real brat sometimes. Actually, most of the time. That’s why I never do anything with her.”

“We should probably get to her room. Let the fashion show begin.”

“I can’t believe you agreed to this.” He pulls me in for a hug and whispers, “I love you.”

Why does he have to say that? It just makes it harder to leave him, harder to move on to whatever’s next for me.

Jenna’s room is huge, big enough for a queen-sized bed, two nightstands, two dressers, and a fluffy white chair that’s big enough for three people with a matching footstool in front of it.

“There you are,” Jenna says, like she was waiting forever. “You want the chair or the bed?”

“I’ll take the chair.” I go over to it. It’s so big, I have to climb into it. Easton climbs in next to me.

“What are you doing?” Jenna says to Easton. “You can’t be in here.”

“Why not?”

“It’s girls only. Now get out.”

“Text me if you need me,” he says to me as he gets up.

“I don’t have my phone.”

“Then just yell really loud.”

“She’s fine,” Jenna says, shooing him away. “Get out.”

When he’s gone, she shuts the door, then turns to me, smiling. “Wanna start with dresses? Shoes? Sweaters?”

I don’t know how to answer. This is so strange. Is this what girls do? I grew up around men and only had a couple friends who were girls so I really don’t know.

“Um, shoes?”

“Awesome! I was hoping you’d say that.” She races into her walk-in closet and returns with a stack of shoe boxes. She takes them out, one by one, telling me where she got them, who designed them, and what clothes they go with. Almost an hour passes before she moves on to dresses.

I’m getting sleepy, but I don’t want to fall asleep and have her think I’m bored. I actually am bored, but she’s loving this so I just sit there and listen. I like being in her room. This chair is really comfortable and it’s next to the window so I can look out at the snow that’s still falling.

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