“Your hands are really cold.”  His fingers closed gently but firmly around mine. My heart jumped into my throat.

“Uh huh,” I managed to say. He rested the back of his hand against my arm and I swayed a little closer to him.

“Poor circulation,” he concluded. He then pulled away and turned to go. “Well thanks anyway for checking.”

****

“Peter and I have talked it over,” my mother began the following evening as I held my breath. I had spent the first day of my incarceration in bed, poking around on Facebook and reading a paperback. "And we both think it’s appropriate that you stay here instead of joining us in Hawaii. We would be doing a poor job as parents if we let this issue slide.”

I walked dejectedly upstairs to my room and closed the door. I hated stewing in my bedroom alone. After an hour of moping I wandered back downstairs to grab something from the fridge.

Nate was sitting on the couch, watching a movie. I grabbed a box of cookies and poured myself a tall glass of milk, then took a seat next to him.  My mother came into the room shortly thereafter, wearing her bathrobe and looking like she was getting ready for bed.

“Look at you two, getting all comfortable on the couch together.” She couldn’t help smiling at us. “We've changed our plans somewhat now that you're not going, Missy.  We have decided to go to a friend of Peter's for the next three weeks before leaving for Hawaii. Our flight leaves at six tomorrow. We’ll see you two when we get back in six weeks. Nate, you can give Missy her phone back tomorrow night, no earlier.  Now you guys behave.  And Missy, you've only got three weeks of school left--try not to get into any more trouble.”

“Okay,” Nate said regarding my phone. I merely sat there and nodded sheepishly. She then stepped in for a hug.

“I love you, sweetie,” she said, pressing me close. "Sorry."

“Love you too, Mom,” I said a little sourly.

She leaned in to hug Nate. “Good luck with the job, honey. See you soon enough. Call if you need anything. Good night."

She headed up stairs.

“Give me my phone back,” I pleaded, digging my fingers into his kidney.

“Hey, stop it!  You’re being punished, remember?”

“Screw you."

“I don’t enjoy being subjected to your abuse,” he said sarcastically. “You know how sensitive I am, and I find your physical attacks quite harmful.”

“I find your physical attacks quite harmful,” I mocked. I nudged him hard with my foot. He just looked at me slyly.

“If you want your phone back, you better stop it. Actually, let’s make a deal, and maybe I’ll give it back to you early.”

“Yeah? What?” I settled back into the couch, pushing his thigh with my foot. What could he possibly want?  He looked like he was trying to hold in laughter.

“First, I need you to pick up a few things from the store.”

I rolled my eyes. As if I was going to do a bunch of chores for my brother.

“I need...” he continued, but then stopped as he noticed I was staring at the ceiling, oblivious to his request. “Are you listening? I really will give you your phone back if you run some errands for me.  As soon as you get back. I promise.”

“Good thing for me you’re too lazy to get off the couch. What do you want?”

“You might want to write this down. First I need a pizza, from Stefano's. Pepperoni, onions and mushrooms.”

I rolled my eyes again and retrieved a pen and paper. “Okay: pepperoni, onions and mushrooms. What else?”

“And some stuff from the store. First of all, I still need a phone charger, yours didn't work; otherwise I can’t call Sylvia.” Sylvia was Nate’s high school girlfriend. She cheated on him a few months before he moved out East.

“Sylvia’s a prostitute.”

“That she may be. Nevertheless, I need a charger. And a few other things. A box of condoms...” I felt my face get hot.

“Ew, I’m not buying you condoms! Especially not so you can go bang gross Sylvia.”

“She’s not gross. I actually find her quite attractive. But she’s been known to be promiscuous, so, anyway. And make sure to get Magnums. They come in a big black box.”

“That’s so gross. I’m not buying you big black condoms for--" I flushed again.

“For my big black cock? I also need some massage oil, two cans of whipped cream, a jar of honey, a bottle of chocolate syrup, and a jar of peanut butter. Get the organic kind.”

“Ew,” I said. I knew I was totally red. Was Nate being serious? What if he made me return it all, too? He would do that. Nate threw me his keys.

“There’s no way you’re being serious.”

“What are you waiting for, sis? Go get my shit.”

“Fine,” I said, rolling off the couch.

“And don’t take too long. I’m hungry.”

****

I put the groceries on the check-out line conveyor belt, sandwiching the box of condoms between the peanut butter and the chocolate syrup. I nervously scanned the tabloid headlines in front of me, avoiding eye contact with either of the customers behind or in front of me. This was going to be the most awkward purchase of my life.

I shifted as the customer in front of me very slowly looked through his wallet, prolonging my embarrassment.

When it was my turn, the check-out lady, a middle-aged woman named Rachael, blankly ran my stuff over the scanner.

“That’ll be $35.40, honey.” I handed her the two $20 bills Nate had given me.

“I hope your night’s as exciting as mine,” she said, her tired eyes flicking to meet mine for an instant.

“Thanks, you too,” I stammered awkwardly.

****

Nate was playing video games when I returned. He didn’t even look up.

“Did you get my stuff?”

“Yeah. It’s in the kitchen. Where’s my phone and car keys?”

“In my room. You can go up and get them.”

“Okay.” I padded up the stairs in my socks and opened the door of his room. It had been turned into a guest bedroom since Nate had moved out. My mother moved out all of his stuff, but somehow it still felt like his room. Maybe it was his smell, or something else. I lay down on his bed, smelling Nate in the rumpled sheets. Sinking into the sheets reminded me how tired I was--definitely time for bed soon. I rolled over, looking around the room for my phone. I couldn’t see it anywhere. I checked the desk drawer, but it was empty.

Maybe in his bag? It was the only place left to look.

Nate’s old duffel bag, the only luggage he had brought from college, was sitting next to the bed with the zipper open, revealing a crumpled mess of clothes. I absentmindedly pawed through it, not really expecting to find my phone. Then I found something totally unexpected.

My panties.

At that moment Nate walked in.  When he saw me hunched over his bag his jaw dropped, as did my keys and phone from his hand.

“What are these?” I asked, stretching my panties between my fingers. Nate blushed a deep red. I didn’t know which of my mixed-up emotions I should try to process first: my total satisfaction at seeing him so embarrassed; my disgust at him for stealing my underwear; or the hot arousal that was blooming, totally unbidden, between my legs.

“I-I don’t know where those came from...” he stuttered, trying not to stare at them.

“I’m pretty sure they came out of my hamper,” I replied. “I wore them yesterday.” They were the same panties I had been wearing last night when I...did the dirty deed.

Nate looked like he wanted to run away. I felt so bad for him, but I didn’t know what to say. I wondered who looked redder, me or him. Then he turned away and walked down the stairs slowly.

I looked at my little, white lace thongs, size 2, balled them up in my hand, and stuffed them into my pocket.

****

I stayed in bed late the next day, even though I was wide awake.  I was so embarrassed by the whole thing I didn’t want to risk having to face Nate. I finally walked downstairs at 11am, when hunger got the best of me. My keys and phone were on the kitchen table, and Nate was nowhere to be seen.