twenty-three

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anna

"ethan!" i laugh, holding up an ugly purple sweater. "is this what you were talking about? your most embarrassing moment?"

his eyes widen as he yanks it from my hands and throws it in the trash pile. "i thought i threw that away ages ago!"

"your closet looks like it hasn't been cleaned since 2013."

"it hasn't," he mumbles, scanning the ground covered in piles and piles of clothes.

his walk in closet is huge. but he takes horrible care of it.

i'm sorting through a pile that i found in the back corner when ethan leaves the room.

not giving it a second thought, i continue with decluttering.

after a couple of minutes, a heavy material falls on my head, and i reach for it. it's a hoodie.

"wait," i furrow my brows. "this is the limited edition clockwork sweatshirt."

ethan smiles down at me. "cameron said you like tame impala and she wanted to give it to you."

i widen my eyes. "no way. that's so cool."

slipping it over my head, i notice that it's a little bit bigger than i'd expect for a sweatshirt of cameron's. but maybe she likes them baggy.

also— i don't remember telling cameron that i listen to tame.

but the soft, orange material makes me push the thoughts out of my head.

"that's literally so nice of her. is she sure she wants me to have it?" i ask, feeling guilty. "these are pretty rare."

"positive."

"i should go ask her, just to make sure," i say, starting to stand up from the floor.

ethan immediately and gently pushes my shoulders back down. "no! she does. i promise. she wouldn't have given it to you if she didn't want you to have it."

i give him a weird, sideways look. "okayy. can i at least go thank her?"

"i'll do it for you," he says quickly. "don't... worry about it."

"okay," i say, wondering why he's acting so weird.

after about an hour and a half, we've made a good dent in his closet and his room is spotless. surprisingly, he doesn't have gross magazines under his bed like most guys i've known.

when i asked him about it, he winked and said, "anna, i'm not stupid. i keep those in my underwear drawer."

he was kidding, of course.

"i think it's good. can i trust you to finish the closet by yourself?" i ask, glancing over the room.

"i'll try my best."

i nod, hand on the door handle. he gives me a look and i can't quite decipher what it is.

"thank you, an," he eventually says. "i appreciate the help."

smiling, i open the door and say, "consider it my apology."

he looks confused. "for what?"

"for the next time i make you mad."

"get outta here," he laughs.

summer romance (e.d.)Dove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora