Chapter 3
Zoey
When I get home from class, I toss my things on the counter, then lay back and kick my feet up. I can smell whatever Tiffany’s making in the oven and my stomach gurgles in response. It’s been a week since I talked to Asher. A week since I’ve even thought about ... No. I promised to not think about that one notch in my bedpost. And it’s been good for me.
I still don’t feel like my old, happy self again, but I’m getting there, and I’m not going to ruin that with even one wayward thought. Not that I really like having to force thoughts of him away. It should just be easy. Right? So why do I have to keep my brain in check every single day?
Tiffany moves my feet and sits down beside me on the couch. “So, do you want to find a party to go to tomorrow?”
“Eww,” I reply.
She’s
