HER PROFESSOR'S GOOD GIRL
StoriesByLilyyou barely even dance with meon my own pretending he's beside mehiccup you just gestured to all of metry and make me blush
IMANI
Dinner was unusually calm.
The clinking of cutlery, the hum of small talk, the way Mom, kept her fake sweet smile plastered on her face. I chewed slowly, wishing I could melt into my chair and disappear.
“So,” Declan began, setting down his glass of wine, “this weekend getaway to Seychelles… Sharon and I finally booked everything. It’s going to be beautiful.”
My fork froze halfway to my mouth.
Seychelles. That sounded like paradise. But I knew better than to imagine myself there.