Tightrope

Everybody's WIggling

"Wake up, Knight, everybody's wiggling," I sang to the closed closet door. Knight had slept for half the day, and I'd heard him snoring despite the door that separated us.

I would've kicked him awake, but the closet door was locked from the inside. I settled for singing, which, given my complete lack of any talent whatsoever, was potentially a worse fate. Usually, I wouldn't subject anyone to said fate, except that Knight was taking up my wardrobe, and I didn't want to spend the day in my Harry Potter nightgown.

I heard a groan from behind the door. "Why is someone torturing a cat?"

"Wake up, Knight, we really need you! Wake up, Knight, before the day's through!"

"This is child abuse," Knight grumbled as the door swung open. He was lying on an air mattress I'd blown up last night, with my collection of brightly coloured pillows laid around him like a cocoon. He was bleary-eyed and squinting at me; it was dark in the cupboard, and the light from my open balcony doors was bright and warm.

I grinned sunnily at him. "Heya, roomie."

"I miss the streets," said Knight mournfully, rubbing at his eyes. "No one forced me awake at ungodly hours there."

"It's literally midday."

"Yeah," said Knight. "Ungodly."

"Didn't birds shit on you as you slept?" I asked.

"Well, yeah," said Knight. "But I didn't have to deal with that until at least 2PM. So, it was better. And it's so hot in here."

"I'm sorry, I have been told I'm hot. Would you like me to leave?"

"No, that would only brighten up the day."

This was the last time I saved anyone from the streets. Apparently, they were ungrateful sods. I was going to leave Knight to his fence and his shivering. Then he grinned up at me, and all of those thoughts dissipated.

"So, roomie," he said. "What are we doing today?"

It was a Saturday afternoon, and most of my family had left the house to attend their usual sports and lunches and activities. Mum was holed up in her study working, but all of the others had deserted the house in the morning. I was hiding Knight's existence from everyone—in case news travelled back to my parents—but I didn't think getting lunch on the main street would be particularly suspicious; anyone who saw us would probably suspect I was just catching up with an old friend from my socialite circles.

I mean, it's not like runaway boy escaping an arranged marriage and hiding in a teenage girl's wardrobe was anyone's first reaction to seeing two teenagers hanging out.

Knight rugged up in an interesting assortment of my clothes. Usually, I would revel in dressing him in shades of pink with overtly feminist slogans like girl power and sparkle queen sparkle, but given we were aiming for a more lowkey profile, I managed to find some baggy tracksuit pants that were only a little too tight, and one of my oversized hoodies.

"My ass looks amazing in this thing," said Knight, examining himself in the mirror.

"You work your angles," I snorted.

Knight looked at me seriously. "I don't know how lowkey this is. I mean, are we risking a stampede of women aching for a look at these delectable ass cheeks."

"I cannot stress enough how much I do not think that will be a problem."

Fortunately, it didn't turn out to be a problem. As Knight and I made our way down the main street, no one gave us a second glance. Knight kept pulling at the back of his tracksuit pants, at which I smiled secretly. For all his posturing, he seemed to find the ass-hugging ensemble deeply uncomfortable.