Three more episodes of the same sitcom followed. Like a veteran TV watcher way beyond his experience, Finn would turn the channel whenever the show broke for a commercial, timing his return just right, as not to miss a single line of dialogue. Dude was a fast learner, and as long as he was flipping, dancing, or chuckling, I knew he was following rules.
* * * *
At the end of the third Laverne and Shirley, Finn didn’t flip to another channel, though. I leaned over, to try to see him, his eyes, to make sure they were open. The way we were angled, my neck constricted, I couldn’t tell. “Hey.”
“Hmm.”
“You awake?”
“Hmm.”
“You don’t sound awake.” He turned so I could see him, and we smiled at one another. Then I rolled to my back again, to stare at the ceiling and get my leg more comfortable. “Just wanted to make sure,” I said.
“It’s nice you care.”
Not always behaving as maturely as I wished I could, I shrugged. “We’re a team…for tonight.”