Grojband Trina Novels & Stories

I’m nothing like the rest of my family, after all. We practice walking down the aisle three times. My left arm sports the scratches, Diana reminds me all three times to keep my body angled so the “gross wounds” don’t show on anyone’s photos they might take and upload to social media before she has a chance to “request they edit them.” I spot Logan after the third run and sneak out of the line up to go over to him. “You are the best!” I tell him, grabbing a French fry and dipping it into ranch. He knows I prefer it to ketchup.