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“Hand me my sweats,” I asked. Britt picked my grey tatty sweats up off the chair across the room and handed them to me. I rolled onto the edge of the bed and slipped them on before I turned on the bedside light. The light blinded me a second, and I rubbed my eyes again. When I looked up at her, she too was blinking from the bright light. I smiled to myself seeing she was wearing an oversized shirt of mine, an old 49er T-shirt, something she had taken from me, and slept in often. The T-shirt was like a security blanket to her, comforted her. She grinned, but it was awkward, and I sensed a little fear. 

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