“Can I really poke around?” There’s a beat of silence before Juniper answers, “Yes—if you promise you won’t judge me no matter what you find. And…if I can do the same in your room.” Of course I’m going to say no to that. Right? I’m going to say no to that, right? “Deal,” I say. It slips past my lips too quickly, too easily. I press my hands to my cheeks, feeling them burn; I feel strangely naked having agreed to this. Not because of what she might find in my room, either—more because this proves to her that I want to learn more about her. I don’t need her getting the wrong idea.
