QUINN
I was sitting up in bed with a book resting against my knees. Christy had called a little while ago to ask if I wanted her to do my hair and makeup for the parade. I had to remind her that band girls were just supposed to wear ponytails; she then proceeded to spend twenty minutes trying to convince me to switch to flags with her. She was growing on me but was still a lot of energy at times.
I finished the book Michael brought me already and was waiting for an opportunity to return it to him. I might have brought it to him if I knew where he lived. My eyes wandered over to it sitting on my desk. He promised he’d be at the parade in the morning, but he had been utterly absent since last week. It left an uncomfortable pressure in my gut.
My phone went off on the nightstand next to
