“I need your guitar.” I shoved open Luke’s bedroom door. I had sprinted from my house and into his. His dad wasn’t there. His dad was never there, but I knew Luke was. His music was blaring. I heard it from my house earlier. It got louder the second the door opened, but I saw a girl on his bed. She was bent over. Her shirt was raised, and her legs were positioned out, ready for him.
The girl gasped, glanced over, but didn’t move. She had black hair that hung down, covering her face, and she tucked some of it behind her ear. She narrowed her eyes at me. “Who are you?”
I wasn’t even shocked. I glanced around. No Luke. “Where is he?”
She shrugged. “He told me to get ready. I’m ready.”
I turned around, but a hand came to my side and gripped me. I jumped, not from fear, but at how close he
