I sat down on the bed, bouncing a little. It squeaked in protest, but I ignored it. The bed felt hard under me, nothing like my own big, soft bed. I almost wished I could take Anita to my room, but that might not go down well with my parents. I didn't want her to see what my home life was like, either.
"There isn't much in here." I'd noted the absence of pictures or the other wall hangings I'd noticed in the bedrooms of others girls I knew. It wasn't like my sis-ter's room at all; hers had been covered with ribbons she'd won for a variety of activities, and other mementos from her time in high school.
Anita leaned back against the door and crossed her arms over her chest.
"I don't need a lot of stuff, to begin with. All I ever do in here is sleep or study."
"Hmm."
Our gazes met and held, and the small space be-tween us grew charged.
"Come here," I said, motioning with my hand for her to sit next to me.