The night is cool and the breeze is just enough to keep things comfortable. But I'm not. My mind’s racing. Presley’s arm is around mine, her head leaning against my shoulder but I would rather it was someone else. She’s comfortable, almost too comfortable, and I’m trying to play along.
I hate this and I know Celeste is never forgiving me for this, In my defence I didn't know she would be here.
On the other hand Presley is happy, probably thinking this