"Do you know if Cordelia is coming to the island?" Grayson asked Andrew, assuming he would know the whereabouts of the oldest Thorpe sister. Last he knew, Cordelia moved to London as well. But maybe he was wrong.
Andrew's brow puckered in confusion...
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Unlike every other room in the house, Grayson's room stood the test of time. His mother renovated random rooms in the house each summer until every nook and cranny was modernized. There was even one summer that they stayed with the Thorpes - best summer ever for him and Charlotte - while housing contractors tore out the wall between the den and the dining room for a more open concept and removed all the old-fashioned windows to be replaced with new black paneled windows. Every summer, Layne brought up the topic of revamping his room and he emphatically refused.
Of course, he couldn't tell his mom that the reason he didn't want the room to change is because he had his very first make out session on that very navy blue down comforter when he was fourteen years old and sneaked a girl into the house when his parents were gone for a special dinner. He definitely couldn't tell her about that time a few girls came over, parents of his friends, and they all simultaneously flashed him their boobs (a really unexplainable event he wasn't sure how to rehash). He couldn't admit how he forever thought of the forts he used to build with Charlotte with the desk chair and blankets when they were pre-teens.
So he lounged on the same navy comforter on a new bed, at least, with a taller height so he didn't sink into the mattress. His mom insisted on purchasing a new black headboard along with a new desk. Everything else remained the same - same blue accent wall among the three other off-white walls, same grey and blue curtains, same desk lamp, same TV stand (with a new TV), and the same shag carpet that always felt so plush under his feet. He didn't want it to change because this is the place that housed a thousand memories and stir crazy nights when he couldn't sleep because a summer fling with a hot chick was on his mind.
The first knock on his door was so quiet that he thought he was hearing things. He paused the episode of Peaky Blinders to listen, but only silence greeted him. The second time he heard the knock, Grayson rolled off of the bed to answer the door.
But a green eyed, raven haired dream barged into the room and swung the door shut behind her. "Gray! Why didn't you answer the door?!" She whisper-yelled, shoving him into the room onto his bed.
He tumbled backwards. "What are you doing here?!"
Gleaming with pride, Charlotte held up the huge brown paper bag in her hands. "It's Tuesday!"
"And?"
"Grayson." Her smile wilted. "My soul agonizes over the fact you forgot!"
Grayson rolled his eyes and forcefully grabbed the bag out of her hands. He unfolded the opening and reached inside. The scent of fresh food hit his nose and he knew what was inside before he withdrew several black plastic trays with clear lids. "Sushi? How did you do this?! I didn't know they had take-out orders."
Charlotte sank into the chaise lounge in the corner of the room and dumped her purse on the floor. Kicking off her flip-flops, she leaned back, flaunting a boastful grin that pulled up the lips of her mouth and showcased her pristinely white straight teeth. Just seeing her lifted his mood tremendously, and he couldn't believe - actually he could - that she pulled this off. "I ordered what you normally get, I think. So don't sue me if it's wrong!"
