I hadn’t been so mortified in years. Not since Barnett had started waking up while I was kissing him in high school. I thought about all the messages I had sent to HockeyDude12—all the personal confessions, the NSFW jokes, the suggestive emojis.
Oh God, I thought, did I really tell him that I wanted to have an “unforgettable night” with him? With three winky faces?
Inwardly, I was screaming. Outwardly, I was frozen to the spot, my seatbelt still in my hand. I wasn’t sure how long I had been sitting like that.
What was I supposed to do? Go in there and hope that Barnett didn’t laugh me into the next century? No, no, I couldn’t risk that level of humiliation in front of him.
Then I thought I saw Barnett look my way, and there was no question left as to what I was going to do.
I fumb
