Lana
Theo walked into my mother’s house like he owned the damn place, and I swear, for a second, I looked at him with my mouth open, my jaw practically on the ground.
The last time I saw him was at Logan’s funeral. He had been twenty then, tall as well back then, but awkward, all elbows and earnestness. He had cried when I did, handed me tissues, and told me he was sorry in that soft, too-sincere way that only a boy who had never lost anything could say it.
Back then, he had a massive crush on me, though he never said it out loud. He didn’t have to, I knew with the way he looked at me, the way he tripped over his words when I said his name, it was just too obvious, to me and anyone watching.
But now, I was sure he had outgrown that.
Now he was twenty-four and had gone and turned i
