Why do I feel so anxious? Astrid invited me to have dinner, and she did what I asked, which was to present Solarys to me, but for some reason, my heart is racing, my palms feel sweaty even though I've cleaned them in my jeans at least four times, and I'm considering changing into something more formal as I look in the mirror.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, scowling at the way my usual leather-and-jeans combo suddenly felt wrong. Too harsh. Too...
I don't even know.
It just doesn't feel right, and Astrid said to wear something better.
Why does this matter? I growled at myself, raking a hand through my tangled dark hair. It wasn’t like Astrid cared what I wore. And Solarys? I didn't even know the guy; I shouldn't be so worried about impressing him.
Yet here I was, ripping
