Wren released Locke and me, then crossed to the woman to give her a high five. “I highly recommend swirlying your enemies and finding five loves of your life.” The stranger’s jaw dropped. “Five?” Wren nodded, smiling wide. “Five is the perfect number.” “Shit,” she mumbled. “I gotta start collecting.” “Good luck,” Wren called, moving toward the door. Locke and I hurried to follow, grinning like the lovesick fools we were.
