Jayda

“She was prettier than a bouquet of roses and crazier than a headless chicken. Fitting in was not an option.”
― Marissa Meyer, Winter

“Money doesn't buy taste, personality, or common decency.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, Don't Look Back

“Though I enjoy the occasional eBook from time to time, I will only stop reading books printed on paper when they pry them from my cold, dead, withered hands, and even then, they will be hard pressed to take them from me.”
― H.L. Stephens

“Reyes. Alexander. Farrow," I said.

Seconds after I spoke his name, Reyes walked into his bedroom, and I looked across the open space directly from my room into his.

He waited for me to continue.

"I feel like there's something missing from my bedroom."

A dimple appeared at the corner of his mouth. "You don't say."

"Any idea what that might be?"

He glanced around my room as well, then shrugged. "I can't imagine."

"Oh, wait," I said, stepping from my room into his, "wasn't there something here? Like, I don't know, a wall or something?"

He looked up. "You could be right. I do seem to remember a barrier of some kind here."

"Yep," I said, stepping closer, "I definitely remember a partition separating our apartments." When his only response was a mischievous tilt of his full mouth, I asked, "Where did you put my wall?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against his doorframe. "What makes you think I took it?"

"It was there this morning."

"And that means I took it? Maybe you just misplaced it. Where exactly did you see it last?"

I pressed my lips together. "You tore down my wall."

The smile he wore could've charmed the panties off a nun. Completely unrepentant, he admitted, "I tore down your wall.”
― Darynda Jones, Sixth Grave on the Edge