Tim blinks awake to the uncomfortable dampness beneath him, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. The silence is broken when his mother steps into the room, her arms folded but her eyes kind.
"Not again," Tim mutters as he sits up, pulling the sheets closer.
Mom, warm but firm, approaches the bed. "Let’s get you changed, Tim. Remember, these things happen. But you’ll need to wear both your diapers and tighty whities for now."
"Yes, Mom," he sighs, resigned.
Tim walks into the living room, his steps slow. On the couch sits a new face—Jake, quiet and reserved, and beside him is Dylan, energetic and grinning.
"Who’s this?" Tim asks, nodding at the boys.
"That’s Jake, a friend from school. And you know Dylan," Mom replies, smiling. "You’ve finally made a real friend, Tim. It’s about time."
Dylan leans in, teasing, "At least Jake’s a real friend, not like when you betrayed Nick." "Dylan’s spending the night, too."
Tim tries to stay awake, shooting nervous glances at Jake and Dylan, determined not to let them get the best of him.
"I’m not falling asleep first," he insists, but his eyelids grow heavier.
Dylan grins mischievously, "Let’s play some relaxing music, see who dozes off first."
Jake nods in agreement, and soon, soft music fills the room. Five minutes later, Tim is fast asleep.
Jake stirs and realizes with horror that he, too, has wet the bed. Tim wakes, his face falling as he notices his own soggy pajamas. Dylan is the first to speak, unable to hide his smirk.
"I always wanted to see if the warm water trick worked, so I tried it on both of you," he confesses, laughing.
"Why do I always have to wear diapers and tighty whities? It’s for nerds like Jake," Tim mumbles, embarrassed.
"First of all, no, and this is only the second time in two and a half weeks I’ve wet the bed. That’s it," Jake protests, red-faced. "At least no one knows I’m a bedwetter."
Jake leans in, voice low. "Do you have a sleepover tonight? You can’t get out of it," he asks.
Tim's stomach knots at the thought. Wearing tighty whities was bad enough, but the fear of wetting the bed again in front of everyone makes him pale.
"I don’t want to be known as a bedwetter," he whispers, eyes darting away.
Tim ends up falling asleep first, despite his best efforts. When he wakes up, he feels the all-too-familiar dampness. The other boys notice, and their laughter stings.
"I’m not a bedwetter," he insists, but tears well up as the teasing continues.
But as the laughter fades, Tim looks over at Jake, who gives him a sympathetic glance. The next day, Tim finds himself being kinder to Jake, realizing that everyone has something they’re embarrassed about—and that friendship is about understanding, not judgment.
