That night, I took advantage of the thunderstorm and climbed into Carmen's bed. When she came out of the bathroom after her shower and saw me lying there, her face instantly darkened. "Carmen, I'm scared! I just had a nightmare. Can I sleep with you? Please?"
Before she could lose her temper, I beat her to it and started crying. Her expression turned complicated, with anger, coldness and a deep sense of helplessness. Uh-oh. Did I push my luck too far?
I quickly got off her bed, sobbing and apologized, "I'm sorry, Carmen. When I was little, my mom always held me when there was a thunderstorm. I just … I miss her."
A flicker of hesitation flashed through her eyes. She muttered something under her breath and then, just as I was about to leave with my pillow, she grabbed me back. "You can sleep here. Just behave yourself, got it?"