Dear Enemy, You're My Mate
"Well, maybe you're not Dior?"
My white, fuzzy friend gets down on all fours, pressing a wet nose into my stomach. I'm wearing a thin shirt and giggle at the coldness spreading over my skin.
"You want scratches, huh?" I speak in the high-pitched voice I use for our neighbor's dog and reach out my hand to brush behind the creature's fluffy ears. "Wah, your fur is so soft!"
I keep at it, petting my new friend until I pick up voices in the distance. My eyes dart to the bushes, where June, William, and other Summerburst members are leering at me.
Hot Chapters