Emma’s POV:
If the opposite of a morning person is a night owl, then I’m an entire flock of owls. I have feathers and a beak and scary eyes that glow at night and big, long wings meant to smack any and everything that dares to try and wake me earlier than I need to be awake. Hell, I’m such an owl that I can even howl.
Wait.
“What sound do owls make again?” I ask no one in particular, staring sadly down into the rapidly decreasing amount of coffee in my mug.
“They hoot,” Sienna says, looking at me like I’m stupid. “How do you not know that? Literally everyone knows that.”
“I didn’t know that, either,” Carina offers.
“You don’t count.”
“Why don’t I count? I think I should count. Do I not get a vote in this?”
“No, you don’t get a vote. I said you don’t count, so you don’t.”
“What i
