Her voice got quieter and quieter, her head dropping lower with each word, the apology swallowing her whole.
Ethan watched her rush to defend herself while simultaneously tearing herself down, and felt something quietly exasperated settle in his chest. Yeah. Called it. This girl.
His tone came down a notch, something almost imperceptibly careful in it. "Why are you apologizing to me?" He paused. "I'm asking because if you use this to clean the car tonight — what are you washing your face with later?"
"I..."
That stopped her completely. She'd been so locked in on finishing the job that the thought hadn't crossed her mind once.
Ethan looked at her expression for a moment, then glanced away. His voice went back to its usual even tone. "Forget it. Finish wiping."
"Oh — okay!"
Nora blinked back to reality, turned around, and quietly got back to work.
A little while later, she finally straightened up.
She pressed a hand against her lower back — just for a second — and a faint gloss of sweat caught the light at her temple.
"Nora." Ethan spoke up. "I'm keeping the towel. Use it for the car going forward. You don't mind, right?"
She shook her head quickly, face tilted down. "No, not at all — go ahead."
Ethan reached out and took it from her, the fabric still warm and slightly damp from use. He walked around to the back of the car, popped the trunk, and tossed it in.
He closed the trunk and turned around. "I don't like coming out ahead in a deal. So here's what we're doing — I took your towel, I'm getting you a new one right now. That's fair."
"No, no — Ethan, you really don't have to—" Nora shook her head quickly. "I've had that towel for years, it needed replacing anyway—"
"That's not how you calculate what something's worth."
He reached out and wrapped his hand around her wrist — light but completely unhesitating — and started walking her toward the campus exit.
"Ethan, seriously, you don't need to buy me anything—"
She tried to pull back. His grip didn't tighten, but it didn't budge either, and he crossed the street with her in tow, steering them both toward the brightly lit convenience store across from campus without a word.
The store was busy. Freshmen everywhere, loading up on orientation training supplies and dorm essentials.
Ethan moved through it like he had a list already memorized. He went straight to the household aisle, scanned the shelf, and pulled down two towels — thick, soft, clearly better than anything she'd been using.
He was heading toward the register when something caught his eye. A cluster of girls nearby, flipping through a rack of bed curtains.
He thought about it for exactly one second.
She definitely doesn't have one of those either.
He reached over and pulled a set off the shelf — simple, solid color, good light-blocking fabric — and dropped it in with the rest.
Outside, Nora looked down at the bag he was holding out to her and felt her face go warm.
"No — Ethan, I can't — this is too much, I really can't take this—"
Ethan stopped walking and turned to face her with the full energy of someone about to make an airtight argument.
"The towel is a straight trade. You gave me yours, I'm giving you a new one. I told you — I don't like coming out ahead. If I walk away knowing I took your towel and gave you nothing, I won't sleep tonight." He kept his expression completely serious. "You don't want to be responsible for me losing sleep, do you, Nora?"
"I..."
She opened her mouth. Nothing came out.
Ethan pressed on before she could recover. "And the curtain — that's an employee benefit. I mentioned before that I need a reliable assistant, right? You haven't officially started yet, but as your future employer, it's completely reasonable to extend some early benefits to a promising hire." He held the bag out. "Settled. Take it. If you feel that bad about it, just do good work when the time comes."
The bag landed in her arms before she could form another protest.
She stood there holding it, looking at his expression — no room for negotiation anywhere in it — and every word she'd been about to say dissolved somewhere in her throat.
"...Thank you," she finally said, quietly.
Back in the room, her roommates were all out — probably walking off dinner somewhere.
Nora set the bag gently on her desk and took out the bed curtain. The fabric was soft between her fingers, substantial. And the color, she noticed, was a pale, calm blue.
She followed the instructions — slowly, a little clumsily, but carefully — and got to work.
When the last panel was in place and she drew it closed, the small space around her bunk transformed. Quiet. Soft blue light. The rest of the room gone.
She sat inside it for a moment, her hand resting on the smooth fabric.
A feeling she didn't have a name for settled over her — something like safety, something like being just slightly less alone than she'd been an hour ago.
Her bed finally looked like everyone else's.
The next morning, just as the sky was beginning to lighten.
Room 208 erupted.
Alarms went off, bodies launched out of bunks, and three people tried to use the same sink at the same time.
First day of orientation training. Nobody was taking chances.
"Come on, come on — Marcus, pass me the toothpaste!" Kevin yelled, cheeks already puffed with foam, words barely intelligible.
"Where the hell is my other sock?" Derek was on his knees digging through the storage under his bed.
Marcus got dressed first, neat and efficient, then walked over to Ethan's bunk.
Ethan was a cocoon of blanket. Just a few dark strands of hair visible at the top. Breathing slow and even, completely untouched by the chaos around him.
"Ethan!" Marcus smacked the bed frame hard. "It's almost 7:30! They're about to call formation!"
A low, muffled sound came from somewhere inside the blanket. "Mm... you guys go ahead... I'll sleep a little more..."
Marcus stared at him. "You want me to grab you something from the dining hall? A bagel or something?"
"No... go eat... I'm good..." The blanket shifted slightly. Ethan was already going back under.
Marcus let out a long breath and shook his head. "Alright, man. But get up soon — I heard the instructor does not mess around."
He grabbed Derek, who had finally located both socks, and Kevin, who was still rinsing his mouth, and the three of them stampeded out the door.
The room went quiet.
Ethan pulled the blanket up a little higher and went back to sleep.
Twenty minutes later, out on the field.
Every program had its formation assembled — rows of freshmen in brand-new camouflage, all of them carrying that specific mix of nerves, excitement, and no idea what they were actually in for.
A sharp whistle cut through the air.
"Fall in!"
Instructors in pressed uniforms jogged onto the field, and just like that, orientation training was officially underway.
First order of business: roll call.
Marcus, Kevin, and Derek stood together in formation, repeatedly glancing back toward the far entrance.
The instructor was working through the roster, name by name, steady and unhurried.
Ethan still hadn't shown up.
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