Head held high, I go to shove past him, but he opens the door, beating me to it. I was prepared for Knox to be an asshole, because he always is. What I’m not prepared for is to see a group of guys from the football team—Ken included—huddled right outside the closet. Knox holds up my white-cotton panties like a trophy. “She’s a purebred fire crotch. The carpet matches the drapes.” A few guys snicker. Until Knox sniffs his fingers and makes a face like he smells something rancid. “Bitch smells like tuna though.” With that, he stalks off. And I wonder if it’s actually possible to die from
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this is so embarrassinggggg
