The campus bad boy posted on the Wall, asking who stole his boxers. The comments section exploded with laughter, but I just stared at the fabric in my hand, my mind blank. Lace trim. Pure black. Embroidered with his initials. Every single detail matched. My first instinct was to pretend nothing happened. But as more and more of his underwear inexplicably appeared in my possession, a cold knot of panic began to form in my stomach. Then he lost his temper for real, ranting online about having nothing left to wear. The panic turned into pure terror. This was the campus bad boy we were talking about. 1 You’re probably not going to believe this. Within a fifteen-foot radius, I can control things with my mind. That includes, but is not limited to, unlocking deadbolted doors, levitating heavy objects, and summoning things from across a room. But I have a really, really bad habit: I sleepwalk. I never thought it was a big deal. Not until last Sunday, when I woke up clutching a stranger's thermos. That’s when I knew something was wrong. Ever since that day, I’ve woken up every single morning with something that doesn’t belong to me in my hand. A pen. A tie. A men’s hoodie. A notebook filled with lecture notes… To be more precise, things belonging to a strange guy. And today? Today, I woke up holding a pair of black, lace-trimmed boxer briefs. Damn. A little… extra, aren't they? By now, I was used to it. I shoved them into the bottom of my junk box, burying them under a stack of folders that had also mysteriously appeared on a previous nocturnal adventure. No 8 AM class today. After washing up, I flopped onto my bed, propped my legs up, and started scrolling through my phone. That’s when I saw the lost-and-found post on the Campus Wall. My blood ran cold. JASON CARTER: Okay, which one of you sickos stole my boxers?! This has happened WAY too many times! The thermos, the pens, I let that slide. But my underwear? What kind of creep are you?! I thought maybe the wind blew them off the line, but I checked everywhere. If you find a pair of black, lace-trimmed boxers with the initials J.C. embroidered on them, please return them to Dorm 6, Room 416. Generous reward offered. And if some freak is doing this on purpose… I’m warning you. Get your ass to Room 416, kneel at my feet, and beg for forgiveness before you return my shit. Otherwise, you’re gonna find out what happens next. FFS, the more I think about it, the angrier I get. You absolute weirdo! P.S. Not anonymous. Thanks, Wall. My pupils dilated. The profile picture, the initials… it wasn’t hard to figure out that J.C. was the infamous campus bad boy, Jason Carter. With trembling hands, I dug out the boxers I had literally buried at the bottom of the box. I checked again. Black. Lace trim. Embroidered with the letters J.C. Yep. He was talking about me. Me, the adorable little pervert. Shaking, I clicked into the comments on his post, my heart hammering against my ribs. “LMAOOOO is this for real?!” “New copypasta just dropped. Sending this to my friends tomorrow.” “What the hell, who steals that?” “The world is now made of three types of people: the sad man who lost his boxers, the pervert who’s about to get their ass kicked, and me, happily eating popcorn and watching the drama unfold.” “All talk and no action, Jason? Just find the guy and beat him up already.” “Black lace? I don’t believe you. Send a pic or it didn’t happen ;)” “Seriously though, that’s disgusting. If it were me, I’d slap that creep silly.” “So gross. Please kick the perv’s ass for us.” “And he’s a repeat offender too. Wow, all those years of education really produced a class act.” “Thanks for taking out the trash, Jason! Leave him half-dead!” I was scared. Genuinely, truly scared. I racked my brain, trying to figure out how to avoid a one-sided beatdown. I couldn’t just walk into the men’s dorm, and going straight to Jason felt like volunteering for a concussion. Then, a brilliant idea struck me. All I had to do was hold onto the boxers before I went to sleep tonight, and my sleepwalking self could just put them back! If I could take his things while sleepwalking, surely I could return them, right? I decided to do it. To make sure I didn't forget, I even put a reminder in my phone. 2 The next morning, I stared in silence at the two pairs of boxers in my hand. …So, I can’t put them back, but I can take more? Is that how this works? Clearly, that plan was a bust. The third day, I woke up with another pair. Oh, for God's sake. Do they multiply if you put them together? Is that what was happening? On the fourth day, another pair. This one was different, though. It was crisp, barely creased, like it had just been bought. The fifth morning, clutching the brand-new pair, I stared at Jason’s latest post on the Wall and started seriously planning where I could hide for the rest of the semester. This time, he just posted a screenshot of a group chat. He’d clearly reached his breaking point. He was threatening to gouge out my eyes, kick me where it counts, and rip out my guts. He also said that if the thief was any kind of man, they’d meet him in front of the gym tonight at eight. I’ve spent nineteen years carefully cultivating my continued existence. This kind of talk was way above my pay grade. Besides… I’m not a man! 3 Crushed by guilt and a profound sense of self-preservation, I packed up the junk box, arranging all his belongings neatly inside. I was hoping for some brownie points, maybe he wouldn't hit me quite so hard. My roommate, Chloe, watched my shady preparations with a raised eyebrow. “Dressed in all black at night? Are you trying to get hit by a car?” “Don’t say that! Can’t you be more positive?” “And what’s with the box? Going on a treasure hunt?” “You wouldn’t understand.” You wouldn’t understand that I’m going to atone for my sins. I even tucked a hundred-dollar bill in the box as a peace offering. The area outside the gym was packed. A sea of people swirled around the entrance. I glanced at my watch—7:50 PM. I squeezed my way through a few rows of people but couldn't get any further. I tapped the guy in front of me on the shoulder. “Hey, what’s going on? Why is everyone here?” “You didn’t see the Campus Wall? They’re catching the perv! I got here at six and this was the best spot I could get!” he said, his eyes glued to the gym doors. “There were guys scalping front-row spots earlier. Fifty bucks. I tried to haggle, and now they’re a hundred and fifty! Should’ve just paid the fifty.” “…Thanks,” I mumbled. I took one look at the massive, expectant crowd and my courage evaporated. I turned around and sprinted back to my dorm. I just couldn’t do it. The humiliation would kill me. I’d have to try my sleepwalking-return plan one more time. Since I was a no-show, Jason completely lost it on the Wall again. It was just a barrage of angry, censored chat logs, probably full of every curse word imaginable. The post made me so anxious I couldn’t fall asleep until two in the morning. When I woke up, I wasn’t in my own dorm. I was in a strange bed. I lifted a hand. Another new pair of boxers. But there was good news: my other hand was clutching the older pairs! Hahahaha! Finally! It worked! My plan finally worked! Wait a minute. If my plan worked, why was I in a strange bed? Logically, I should have woken up back in my own room, right? The sound of male voices came from outside the door. “Jason, I don’t think the thief is gonna show. We’ve been watching the door all night. Not a single peep.” “Yeah, man, my eyelids are starting to fight each other. I’m dead tired.” A familiar voice, rough with exhaustion, replied. “Thanks for staying up, guys. I know you’ve got that 8 AM.” “No sweat. We just wanted to see the show.” “Seriously, it wasn’t just us. Did you see the guys from the next dorm over? They dragged their desk chairs into the hallway to wait for the perv.” “…” The footsteps grew closer. Without thinking, I dove under the covers, pulling them over my head. Oh holy mother of God, please don’t let them find me here… My silent prayer was cut short as the blanket was ripped away. Before he could scream, I slapped a hand over his mouth. With a flick of my wrist, my power slammed the bed curtain shut, cocooning us in darkness. I brought my other finger to my lips. “Please,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Don’t tell anyone I’m here.” Getting caught in the men’s dorm was a one-way ticket to academic probation. I could see the pure shock in his eyes. I pulled out the two handfuls of boxers and thrust them at him. “…These are yours. I’m giving them back.” “And this one, too. The one with your name on it.” His shocked expression deepened into utter bewilderment. I tried to sound reasonable. “Jason… look, I can explain all of this.” A voice called from the other side of the curtain. “Yo, Jason, what are you doing up on your bunk?” “Hurry up and get dressed, man. We’re gonna be late for class, and you know how fast the good seats go.” I flinched, slowly removing my hand from his mouth. I gave him a pleading look. “Don’t say anything. Please…” 4 He stared at me, his eyes filled with suspicion. I quickly pressed my hands together in a prayer-like gesture. Please, I just want to graduate in one piece. After a few tense seconds, he turned and climbed down the ladder. “You guys go on ahead and save me a seat. I’ll be right there.” Phew… thank God. “Dude, are you serious? Professor Miller is super strict about attendance.” He tapped his phone. “Already paid a guy to sit in for me. Just to save the spot.” “Alright. Well, hurry up.” “Yeah.” The moment I heard the dorm room door click shut, I dared to peek through the curtain. Our eyes met. I awkwardly pulled the collar of my pajamas higher and offered him a weak smile. “So… all that other stuff, the notebook, the thermos… was that all yours, too?” I’d sleep-stolen so much stuff, I wasn't even sure if it all belonged to one person. “You stole it, and you don’t even know what you took?” he snarled, his voice low and dangerous. “Well, I wasn’t a hundred percent sure about everything,” I admitted. Then a thought occurred to me. “But the boxers, I’m pretty sure those were all yours. The timeline of your posts on the Wall matched up perfectly with when I… acquired them.” He muttered a curse under his breath. “Get down.” I froze. “But you have to believe me! I really didn’t do it on purpose!” He ran a hand through his messy hair in frustration. “Just get the hell down here, now.” “And stop sleeping in my bed.” My heart was doing a drum solo against my ribs. He was terrifying. “Now. Do you not understand English?” God, he’s so intimidating. “Coming! I’m coming down!” I scrambled down the ladder and stood before him, fidgeting with my fingers and occasionally darting a glance up at his face. Having this effortlessly cool, handsome guy standing right in front of me was nerve-wracking enough on its own. I usually gave guys like him a wide berth. But this one? I’d stolen a mountain of his personal belongings. I was so, so guilty. He crossed his arms, looking down at me with an expression of pure disbelief. “You know,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “you didn’t leave me a single pair.” “I’d get a new pack from Amazon, and they’d be gone the next day. Your speed is impressive. You’d give Usain Bolt a run for his money.” “I get it when girls collect dolls or mugs or whatever.” I looked up and saw the utter bewilderment on his face. “But isn’t your collecting habit a little… twisted?” “And you specifically target other people’s stuff.” “Are you broke, or do you just think my used boxers smell better?” My face flushed crimson. “No! It’s really not like that!” He kicked a chair out, hooking it with his foot, and sat down in front of me. “Fine. Explain. I’m listening.” The whole superpower thing was even more unbelievable than the sleepwalking, but I figured a demonstration was my best bet. “Okay… watch closely.” “And whatever you do… don’t blink.” I held out my hand, and with a surge of focus, the boxers on his bed zipped through the air and landed squarely in my palm. He shot to his feet, snatching them back. “Jesus Christ! You don’t have to rub it in my face by stealing them right in front of me!” “What? No!” Now I was getting flustered. “Didn’t you see that? I just held out my hand and—whoosh—your stuff flew right into it!” I leaned in closer. After a quick scan of the empty room, I stood on my toes and whispered in his ear. “I have… special abilities. You know, like superpowers.” “To put it simply, I can control things with my mind.” He was silent for a moment. Then he reached out and pressed a single finger against my forehead, pushing me away. “You’re a real piece of work.” “No, seriously!” I pleaded, terrified he wouldn’t believe me. “You get used to it.” “I found out when I was in third grade. The very first day, I secretly swiped a dollar from my mom’s purse and bought two bags of hot chips.” The second the words left my mouth, I regretted them. That was probably not the best example. “Got it,” he said. Wow! He believes me! “See? It’s easy to understand!” “So now you’re using your superpowers specifically to steal guys’ boxers?” 5 “…” You got it, alright. You got it completely wrong! I took a deep, calming breath. “And on top of that… I also sleepwalk.” “So I have no idea why I only take your things when I’m asleep!” He nodded slowly. “Right. So you’ve got the whole combo package.” “Jason, I’m being serious!” I said, frustrated by his nonchalant attitude. It felt like nothing I said was getting through to him. Fine. Whatever. I was the one at fault here. “If you still don’t believe me, just wait for me tonight!” “What do you think I was doing all last night? Herding sheep in the hallway? Having a picnic?” I fell silent. “I know you guys were trying to catch me,” I said, “but do you really think someone with my abilities would just walk in through the front door?” “You had a whole audience sitting out there. Even a real pervert would have taken one look and run away. What were you guys even thinking…?” A slow, mocking grin spread across his face. “Oh, you’re right. How could I ever be as clever as you?” “It’s true, I never would have guessed a girl could sleepwalk, have superpowers, and combine the two just to steal underwear.” “It wasn’t on purpose! And I didn’t throw your things away! They’re all safe in a box!” “You know, a while back, I thought about buying one of those sports cameras, the kind you strap to your chest, to record my nightly wanderings.” “But they were too expensive, so I gave up on the idea.” I patted his shoulder. “But now that I have you, I don’t think I’ll need it.” He fell silent for a beat. “You want to… strap me to your chest?” His reading comprehension was really something else. “No! I mean… you could just stay up and watch where I come from!” “Why didn’t I just wake you up when I saw you?” I threw my hands up in exasperation. “You people!” “Haven’t you ever heard that you’re not supposed to wake a sleepwalker?” “Why not?” “Oh. Uh… I don’t actually know.”
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