Garrett scuffs at the gym floor, huffing. “He was this close to settling on Taylor Swift eras before your little suggestion.” He throws his arms wide. “I had my Fearless outfit picked out already!” Jaxon shoves him. “I was gonna be the Fearless era!” Garrett shoves him back. “No, I was!” Ireland stomps her foot, fists balled at her side. “No, me!” She leans toward me, hand in front of her mouth as if that’ll hide her words. It doesn’t; she hasn’t figured out whispering yet. “I don’t know what we yellin’ ’bout.”
