38 | No Space For You on My Beanbag

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My breath came out in cold puffs as I walked to Everett's house. Mist hung in the air, shifting and curling into strange shapes. The sky overhead was grey and gloomy, clouds gathering in heavy masses like it was about to rain.

My fingers were cold inside my winter gloves, and my face was as numb as I felt on the inside. The air seemed to compress around me, weighing down on me. My feet dragged over the barren path with difficulty, weighted down with heavy boots.

I lifted my hand to ring the bell, but the door flung open before I could even touch it. The house was so heated that a gust of warm air hit me, bringing feeling back to my skin. The sofas were dragged around and cushions pulled out and flung about haphazardly. Colorful blankets and throw pillows were bundled up in a huge pile. In the middle of it all stood Everett.

He was like sunshine. He beamed so bright that the gloomy day lit up with stars. Heat enveloped me as he threw himself into a tight hug. His lips found mine that were cold and cracked, warming my chest and down to my stomach. When he finally let go, his eyes were glittering. And his hair was a mess.

"Come in." His voice sounded out of breath in the cold, coming out in visible puffs.

I stepped into what felt like an oven, pulling off my gloves that were suddenly sweaty. "God, Everett. It's boiling in here."

"It's normal in here! You only feel it because it's freezing outside."

"But you have like," I glanced around the room, counting, "four heaters."

"Okay well, that one is on the staircase," he pointed, "it doesn't reach us. And the fireplace doesn't count, it only heats up to three inches in front of it."

The electric fireplace had all the cushions crowded up around it. A beanbag had been dragged down from his room, and sat facing the flames on the screen.

"I made a pillow fort." Everett gestured at the giant mess.

"Made as in...it's done?"

"Yeah it's do- what are you insinuating? I spent all day on it."

The so-called pillow fort had no structure to speak of. It looked like he had tried-part of it was propped up against the couch-but then the roof had caved in.

"Ah nothing," I mumbled, plopping down on the beanbag. The fire crackling on the screen captured me in a trance.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"What? Yeah. It's a cool fort," I assured.

"Don't lie, you think it's a crap fort." Everett sat on my beanbag, pushing me half off in the process.

"It is pretty crap."

He glared at me, his snubbed nose still pink from the freezing air.

"I didn't qualify for student funding," I finally said, breathing out heavily, "for college. And if I don't go...I don't really know what else to do with my life."

"Oh." He paused. "What were you planning on doing after college?"

"I don't know." I shrugged. "I could have felt like I was doing something productive, for at least a while...before I had to think of what comes next."

"Do you even want to go?"

"Yeah- I mean, I don't know. It just feels like the natural next step I guess."

"I'm taking a gap year." Everett turned to me, swinging his legs up and pushing me further off the beanbag. "There's so much pressure to make plans for your future right after finishing school. I just needed some time to figure things out."

"That makes sense." I shifted to make more space for him. I was sitting on my imagination at this point. "I thought your dad wanted you to enroll soon."

"I pitched the 'How Not to Bake' workshop idea, and he actually found it hilarious!" Everett beamed suddenly, scooted closer in his excitement. "He said I can plan it out and launch it sometime around Christmas."

"Everett, that's great!" A smile stretched across my face. "You're going to do great!"

"Actually...." He hesitated, tucking his legs beneath him. "I wanted you to do it with me."

My eyes widened. "The workshop?"

"You don't have to if you don't want to!" he said quickly. "I figured you'd be busy anyway, but I was hoping maybe once a week...I mean, you can drop in whenever you've got time, or-"

"That sounds, um...." I couldn't keep the smile off my face. "That sounds really cool actually."

"You'll do it?" His eyes flickered, warm flames dancing in his pupils.

"I'd love to do the workshop with you."

Everett threw himself at me, knocking me straight to the ground. "This is going to be so much fun."

"If I survive." I grinned again. I couldn't sound serious, even as I pushed his weight off my sore arm.

"We have to start planning! I was thinking we can host an opening event the first Saturday of Decemeber—like a Christmas special—to help us get signups for the workshop. Oh and we have to make Christmas themed goodies, maybe like a cupcake with a big dump of green icing on it to look like a tree." Everett made a huge cone shape with his arms.

"A dump of icing? That sounds horrible." I laughed, wrinkling up my nose.

"See that's why I need you, Clementine," Everett said passionately. "My cupcakes look horrible without you."

"We have a month, we can experiment with some recipes," I suggested. "I'm thinking reindeer macaroons and snowman cake pops."

"That sounds good too," he agreed. "Do you wanna start today?"

"Yeah." I picked myself off the floor. "But can we please fix this awful pillow fort first?"

 "But can we please fix this awful pillow fort first?"

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