“Marshmallows and Competition I taste my first roasted marshmallow, cooked by Trevor after I’ve burned five of them. It’s delicious. The cheerleader asks him to cook her one, and because he is still Trevor the Polite, he does it. I don’t have to ask. He makes me another, then as many as I want, without me ever asking. That burns her. Lying in the tent with her that night, I’m looking out through the open screen roof at the amazing display of stars above us. I have never seen so many stars, but T...revor explained that they are always there; we just can’t see them because of all the city lights. I try to find the constellations he pointed out to me. “Jen?” My whispered name comes from the cheerleader’s sleeping bag. “What?” I hope my tone effectively conveys my irritation at the interruption of my contentment. “So, are you, like, after Trevor?” “After him how?” “I mean, do you like him?” “Of course I like him.” “No, do you like him like him?” “He’s my friend.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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