Drained Account and Clean Slates
Language: en
On the day I organized our graduation road trip to the lake, I saw the one girl my boyfriend supposedly despised sitting in our rental van. "Despised" wasn't even a strong enough word. Weston had warned me to stay away from Chelsea more times than I could count. "She's trouble, Lauren," he’d told me, his eyes icy and resolute whenever her name came up. "Being around girls like her will only rub off on you in the worst way." Yet there she was, wearing a denim micro-skirt and four-inch heels, sitting right next to Weston. In the passenger seat. My seat. Weston didn't even look up. I assumed…