You Are the Shell to My Tortoise | ✓

12

This chapter's dedicated to softyhartz! Thank youuu for being so sweet and awesome in general, I appreciate you so much ♡

When I woke up this morning, I was thoroughly ashamed of myself.

I'd fallen asleep hugging Nolan's comforter to my chest last night. It smelled so good that I had taken it to bed with me.

Solemnly, I looked down at my beloved Georgie, which was sitting on the edge of my bed. His adorable silly face stirred up an even greater storm of guilt in me. I had forsaken my blue-furred teddy bear that Ryan gave me six Christmases ago for a strange comforter last night. What had I done?

Without exceptions, I hugged Georgie to bed every night.

Ryan could never learn about this scandalous affair.

Actually, maybe he wouldn't care. When we were home for Thanksgiving break last year, his reaction to seeing Georgie's picture on my phone wallpaper was this: "Seriously, Chelsea? It's cute that you still like the stuffed bear I got you when you were nine, but don't you think it's time to at least wash it?"

I flew to Georgie's defense immediately, informing him that Georgie wasn't dirty, just well-loved. Besides, washing him meant that I would have to leave him out to dry for almost a week—there was no way I could sleep without him for that long. "I wipe it down and dust it like every night, okay, stop judging me!"

Okay, he probably wouldn't care. This was just between me and Georgie.

Picking up poor old Georgie, I gave him a quick peck on the forehead.

No one had to know that I had hugged Nolan's possession to sleep. I would just return him his comforter today, and I could just forget all about this incident.

After digging around in my drawers, I found a large cotton tote bag to stuff his comforter into.

There. No more illicit hugging.

My phone vibrated. It was a text from Ashley. Did you oversleep? Are you coming down for breakfast today?

Sighing, I sent her a quick reply that I had just gotten up. I grabbed my wet brush off my desk and started to untangle the nest on my head. I hated battling with my hair every morning. It always took so long to get it nice and straight again. The worst part was seeing my sad little brown hair strands crying for their return to my scalp stuck in between the bristles—all because I was usually in too much of a rush to patiently brush them out.

It looked like this morning was going to be no different.

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I had spent the day in the library with Ashley, trying to revise my schoolwork. Melissa had tried to join us when she caught us on the way there, but she ended up dozing off on her textbook every thirty minutes. By the end, when it was almost time for dinner and we decided that we were done, she had been drooling on her arm for the past two hours. The whole way to the dining hall she begged us to stop nagging at her unless we wanted our new official nicknames to be Grandma. Ashley only stopped when we reached the dining hall, and to her great displeasure was crowned the title of Grandma Ashley.

"Oops, sorry."

After accidentally elbowing it, Melissa caught my giant lump of a tote bag right before it fell off our table.

"It's fine," I assured her, taking it from her and placing it on my lap. "I'll just hold on to it."

"I still can't believe Nolan of all people lent you his comforter," Ashley said, finishing her bite of pasta. "And that you now have his number."