Lyric’s P.O.V
“I f****d up, didn’t I?” I asked George during lunch hour as we sat outside in the courtyard, under the shade of some fancy tree that had peach colored flowers blooming everywhere.
Normally, I would’ve preferred to have my lunch at the nearest Subway or Starbucks, but George had brought homemade lunch today and he insisted that I share his. Maybe it was his way of saying thank you for saving Avery, but we both knew Lydia was the one who had done the actual saving part.
“Is this about Miss Lydia?” George asked, putting a spoonful of pasta into his mouth.
“Stop calling her Miss like she’s the President’s daughter or something.” I frowned at George. “She’s the same age as me.”
“Yes, but-”
“Never mind.” I shook my head. “Yes, it’s about Lydia and I’m getting in way over my
