I don’t realize how late it is until
Ellington suggests we might want to head up to the sleeping
quarters. He chases us out of Marie’s room and into the corridor,
and now he stares at the floor awkwardly, shuffles his feet,
doesn’t look us in the eye when he mumbles, “You know how it is.
With the virus, a lot of people are scared, you can appreciate
that. So I don’t really think it’d be a good idea if you two…” He
trails off, unsure of how to continue. I know what he’s going to
say. He doesn’t want Dylan and me sharing a bed again. Hell, after
what happened last time? I’m a little leery of it, myself.
“I know—” I start, but Dylan squeezes
my hand almost painfully, he doesn’t want to make this easy for
Ellington, not after what he put us through. I fall
silent.
“Maybe you two
