“Sarah. If I’d wanted to put up lights, I would’ve done it on Thanksgiving Break. I’m not too busy to decorate.” Her mouth forms an O of surprise, and the guy at the top of the ladder curses. “Are you kidding me, Sarah? Not only do you have to involve yourself in everyone’s business, but now you’ve dragged me into it, and you don’t even have the guy’s permission? Motherfucker.” Tearing her attention from me, Sarah glances up, her expression morphing from surprise to irritation in a heartbeat. “Shut up, Dylan. I’m gonna tell Mom you’re cursing at my neighbors if you don’t cut it out.” “I’m not
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