Friendshipped
Om bogen
There are three things you should know about me. -I hate running. No, really. I only run when someone's chasing me, and thankfully that's never happened. -My ideal Friday night includes pizza, The Princess Bride, and dancing with abandon. -And I'm madly in love with my best friend. That right there—that's my secret. Trevor and I grew up next door to one another. Yes. He's the boy next door. Even now, we rent opposite sides of a duplex, and we work across the aisle from one another at The Corn Corners Tribune. Basically, there isn't a part of my life Trevor hasn't touched. I take that back. He hasn't touched me. He's made it clear we're in the friend zone, and whatever feelings he had for me were a passing thing for him, whereas mine keep growing like a Chia pet on a humid summer day in the Midwest—unruly and apparently pointless. So now I'm resigned to get Trevor out of my system once and for all.