I was light-headed, physically dizzy with glee. This was too good to be true. “You wrote fanfic about me and Nell?” “It’s not fanfic,” he insisted. “It’s like … a writing project. A fake diary. Like Devi made us do for that Wuthering Heights project.” “My fake diary?” “Nell’s fake diary. You promised you wouldn’t laugh!” I’d promised no such thing, but I tried to collect myself. “Can I read it?” “Not with that attitude.”
