As I watched Trevor walk to his room, I really, really hated my best friend. He had to pull the ridiculously oversized pants up as he walked, and the sweatshirt might as well have swallowed him whole. And thanks to Easton’s texts, all I could think about as he headed to bed was that he was such a cute boy. I dragged my hands down my face and shook my head in frustration at myself, at my dad, at Easton, at this entire thing. Now my brain was going so fast that trying to sleep would be futile. Instead of bothering, I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and headed to the living room to find
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