The sins of her father could ruin her entire life...
Sang Sorenson is an 18 year old high school senior at Ashley Waters school. Her mother is dead, her sister has gone no-contact, leaving her with an absent father.
She's determined to get through s...
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"Why are you both coming?" I ask when neither of them says a word. The tension is palpable, and I don't like it.
"North made you cry earlier," Luke says, confirming my theory. I love him so much for being this supportive... but it's really not needed. "I don't want to leave you alone with him again."
"North and I are fine," I say, turning to let him see how serious I'm being. "I don't need you and Brandon to chaperone us."
"You know, I always find it strange how you know it's me and not Corey," Brandon says. "You never hesitate with it, unlike the others."
"Yeah," Luke says, nodding. "How do you do it? I've known them for years and still get confused."
"Hell, you saw what Sean was like earlier," Brandon says, laughing. "And he's our doctor."
I shrug, spinning back around, but that doesn't deter them.
"Ugh, fine," I groan, blushing, but I close my eyes before repeating it. "You have different smells."
"What?" Brandon asks me, confused.
"Corey smells like peppermint," I divulge. "You have an orange smell, with a hint of engine grease."
"No fucking way can you tell that!" Brandon exclaims, shocked.
"What do I smell like, Sang?" Luke asks. I love how he's acting like this is new knowledge—I mentioned it when he came and broke into my house.
"Vanilla and sugar," I murmur.
"North?" Luke asks.
"Nope," I say, sighing. "We're not doing everyone."
"Come on, baby," North pleads. "Tell me mine. I'll not ask for anyone else's."
"Why are you blushing?" Brandon asks.
"I'm not," I argue, not sure how he can see me since I'm not looking at him. "North smells like a light, rich musk, and again, sometimes engine grease."
"Why did that make you blush?" North asks, confused.
"It didn't," I mumble. "How long will we be?"
"Shit," North complains. "I missed the turn." We watch in silence as he readjusts the car and parks it.
"Oops," I say, wanting to make him feel better. "I don't have any shoes."
"My bad," North says. "The toilets are unisex. I'll carry you in."
"No," I mutter. "Can I borrow someone's shoes?"
"Cupcake, our shoes will be humongous," Luke says, laughing at me. I shrug because I'm not budging on this one. Fifteen minutes later, North walks up to the toilet door to pick me up (it took ages to walk in the shoes, and I had to stop and pause every single time the guys laughed at me) to save me from the embarrassment for a second time.
