I flopped down on the couch next to Trent. He had entered his details into the phone, and then called himself to get her number. He glanced toward the kitchen and then returned to the main screen on Ella's phone. He found her music folder and opened it. He started scrolling. "What are you doing?" He gave me a withering look, like I should have known better than to ask. "I'm looking at her playlist." Trent had this theory that you could tell everything you needed to know about a person just by looking at the music they have downloaded. "Nice," he muttered more to himself than to me. I attempted
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