As we pass Asher, I roll down the window and flip him off. He freezes, a hand lying inert by his side. I soak in his surprised expression as Jason and I laugh. “I’ve got to admit, I’m loving the new you,” Jason says. “Why? What was the old me like?” “Bitchy? Snobby? Silent, mostly.” Ouch. “And you would’ve never flipped Asher Carson the bird.” I raise an imaginary cup. “To the new me, I guess.”
