“It’s your fault, you know,” I whisper quietly, rocking when we hit a speed bump because, feeling que cera cera, I didn’t strap myself in. “I thought you were my best friend, and you ruined it. And now I have to sleep in your bed and I can’t get this itch off of me. I want this feeling to stop, but there’s only one thing I can think of to solve it, and we… we can’t do that.”
