Devan
I flop down on Marilyn's childhood bed the way I've done a thousand times. Staring around her room, I see that nothing has changed. The same posters Marilyn tacked up on her walls during high school are still present. I giggle at the sight of Mumford & Sons, remembering what a great time we had at that concert.
The door opens and my best friend comes inside. “I can't tell if you're happy about the interview or sad."
Propping myself up on my elbows, I smile. “I think I'm both."
“What does that mean?" she asks, sitting on the side of the full-size mattress.
Moving until I'm sitting with my legs crisscrossed, I let myself think about the next step. You know. Moving on, being an adult. It's scary, and I'm gravitating toward the idea of letting it happen in a place where I'm comf
