PUCK ME, STEPBROTHER
Whatever it is, by the time Danny starts getting ready, I find myself digging through my closet for something that doesn't look completely pathetic.
"Wait, are you actually coming?" Danny asks, pausing with his shirt halfway over his head.
"Maybe," I say, pulling out the one decent shirt I own. It's nothing special, just a dark blue button-down that Mom bought me for high school graduation, but it's clean and it fits okay.
"Dude, that's awesome! You're going to have a great time, I promise."
I'm not sure about that. But I'm sure about one thing - I'm tired of everyone at this school thinking I'm some fragile charity case who can be scared away by a few mean comments.
Bab Populer