james charles brushes
james charles brushes my arm and adds to the others, "I hate that you boys have to go to the airport, but I can't stop you."
I glare at him.
"Thanks."
Even I can tell that his face looks regretful.
"We're not going to get any work done, anyway," Thomas announces, shifting his bag on his shoulder.
"Stupidity from every direction."
"What about you?"
Bennett asks.
"Are you going to L.A. for the meeting?"
Thomas's eyes are dark, curious.
rather than soft, like he was on the phone.
"You know, I don't know.
Maybe," I say.
I want to go, but I'm not sure why.
I just want to get away from my life, which, at the moment, seems sort of horrifying.
"I might need to stay in town for something.
I can't really say for sure.
It depends."
I make an X on my palm.
I think of that stupid girl on the dance floor, the one with the flowers.
She's kind of weird.
I'm starting to think that I should just steer clear of her.
The twins' voices break through my thoughts.
"Jesus, Lena.
You've become one of those clingy girls.
You just want everyone to think that you're happy, because you're not."
"Oh, c'mon.
It's not like that.
I just-I don't know.
Maybe that's why everyone's giving me such a hard time."
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