eighteen
LANCE
Why don’t they just string me up by my toes and hang me from the ceiling? It’d be more welcome than the current torture my family is putting me through. Kenzie’s hair is still silky and smooth, and it tickled my nostrils when she leaned back, just like I remember it doing on the day the original picture was taken. She used to turn in under my arm and wrap her arms around my waist, squeezing me tightly before we had to part for our separate classes. All of it came back in a rush when her body was pressed against mine.
And now she’s next to me and I’m not sure the table could be any smaller. I’m trying to keep my thighs closed and not manspread into her space, but it’s a struggle.
My aunt goes up to the podium to get the assembly started and introduce everyone, even though
