DETAILSSSSSSSS

Friday had finally dragged the week to its end, and Val's throat still tasted like paper dust and old carpet—the library patch Ashley and her friends had claimed weeks back. Ashley and Liz hadn't let go of the running joke since mid-April. How far had he gone. Had he kissed anyone. Did knowing Dawn and the twins mean he was secretly keeping three girlfriends. Ashley's smile stayed sun-bright; Liz chipped in with quick grins between every barb. Sport, not a tribunal—and they were both enjoying how hard it was for Val to keep his neck from turning red.

Enough. Val shoved back before his dignity evaporated entirely. "We've had sleepovers before." The words came out hot and honest and stupid. True, too—nights at Mei's school-town house with Dawn and the twins, planned after the Block A ambush, then again on gate weekends and long March sessions that ended with everyone face-down on a mat. Nothing like what Ashley's imagination was probably doing with two syllables. He couldn't unsay it.

Ashley lit up like he'd handed her a key. She lunged toward him across the table. "Detailssssssss!" Who. Where. Which room. What happened once the lights went out. The library aisle behind them felt cramped all of a sudden, too narrow for how wide her excitement had gotten.

Liz dropped into the seat beside her with the same gossip-hungry sparkle. Questions stacked; she snorted at his expression and kept going. Playful pressure—the same teasing chase that had followed him through April, nothing cruel in it—but each new follow-up still pinned him under a bright little spotlight.

Embarrassment hit harder than anything else that week. Ashley wanted pillow-talk scandal; Val meant dawn alarms, shared exhaustion, Aura drills until nobody could stand. He shook his head, cheeks on fire. "It's not like that." He wouldn't hand out names and floor plans. Wouldn't spell out sleeping arrangements or anything that turned training nights into the story she was building.

They didn't let him wilt long. Ashley and Liz swapped satisfied smirks, pleased as if they'd edged a point off him in a game he'd never agreed to play. Val let the relief sit heavy anyway—they were still grinning at him, still not looking at him like he was poison.