Holding my breath, I open it up to the first page. Cruel, teasing eyes stare back at me. Asher. Page after page is filled with Asher. It’s sort of like a journal, but… not. The things he does to me, his taunts, his pranks. The things he says. Close ups of his features; his full lips, his thick lashes, the smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. The dimple in his right cheek that only appears when he smiles. The way the sun hits his tan skin. The way his dark-blonde hair sticks out from beneath the backward ball cap that’s permanently atop of his head. Drawings of him standing at
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