Decklan made up for my birthday disappointment in the laundry room and gave me a promise. Just as the moment felt sacred, before I could say "I do," Dylan's voice roared from outside the door, "Nora! My sneakers need hand washing!"
Is Dylan some kind of curse that appears every time Decklan and I are alone?
I was yanked out of my little pink bubble and crashed back to earth, staring at the frenzy of white foam swirling around in the washing machine.
"Oh, of course, Prince Dylan, just leave your shoes on the floor," I said, pulling on my cleaning gloves and heading over to him. Then I saw his shoes.
Holy cow, what the hell did these shoes go through? Did Dylan get into a mud fight with someone or what? The mud on them was still wet.
"What did you do?" I asked, inspecting the shoes' dam
