All eyes turn on me, and I don’t see how it’s fair since the question is technically addressed to two people. Guess everyone assumes I’m going to be the difficult one.
Shaking my head, resigned, I say, “I’m okay with that if I can take the lower bed.” When I was eight, I fell off the top bed once and I’ve done my best to avoid bunk beds ever since. I guess after twenty-five years of success, my luck has run out.
All eyes now turn to the other half of this arrangement.
Wendy blinks at me. “I don’t mind staying on top,” she says with total innocence.
Pity, a vivid image of what she’d look like staying on top in a very different situation invades my mind, making my eyes widen. I’m not quick enough to hide the shock, and Wendy catches me. She frowns at my reaction, then her eyes narrow.
