nineteen
"So, what's it like?"
I shuffle Malia's laptop across the bed, looking at Keeley through the blurred quality of the camera. "The farm's really nice, we basically just help with the animals and mess around."
Keeley rolls her eyes, pausing in the task of painting her nails. "I didn't mean where you're staying," she laughs, and I furrow my eyebrows. "I mean, what's it like staying in the same house as Trystan?"
When she says Trystan's name, her tone takes a suggestive air and she wiggles her eyebrows. "Not you too," I groan, throwing my hands up in exasperation. "For about the billionth time, there's nothing going on between us."
"No sizzling chemistry, secret longing looks, brushing hands too long?" Keeley prompts, swiping the red polish across her nails expertly.
To my irrit
