Callan’s POV
F.uck it, I’m running late, first my alarm didn’t go off, then all the showers at the gym were in use so I had to wait. Why the f.uck am I paying for a private gym when I still can’t get in the damn shower after my workout?
When I finally got out of there, the traffic was ridiculous, it’s like everyone decided to drive to church like they were in a funeral procession, and then halfway to the party I remembered I didn’t have a gift of any sort so I had to stop at the supermarket to grab beers.
After the s.hit show that was yesterday, I’ve been avoiding my parents’, my father in particular who has rung no less than seventeen times, leaving five voice mails, all of which I deleted without listening too them. I shove thoughts of the dinner out of my mind as I pull up to Harriso
