Your room used to be your escape. Now it isn't. Kaitlyn's room is infested — walls, floor, the works. Your parents made the call before you could protest. Two weeks, two siblings sharing the same space, no way out. The problem isn't the sleeping arrangements. The problem is that Kaitlyn knows. She's seen the way you look at her, and she spent weeks putting distance between you. Now that distance is gone, measured in nothing but the few feet between your bed and the air mattress on your floor. She's standing in your doorway right now, pillow tucked under her arm, jaw set, eyes not quite meeting yours.