New Year’s Eve…One Year Later…
Max, the Max Prewitt I’ve known my whole entire life, isn’t wearing any makeup, like zilch.
Which, of course, is fine, obviously, but this is Max.
She basically has eyeshadow in her blood, and to see her without it in a crazy winged, negative space type thing? She isn’t even wearing any eyeliner or mascara, and alarm bells keep going off in my head.
There’s something seriously wrong.
“Hey, what’s up?” I ask, tugging down on my dress because it was way shorter than I thought it was gonna be, but here we are, me being uncomfortable, wearing Michael’s suit jacket that just makes me look like a floating head and a walking pair of legs, so win-win, I guess?
“Nothing. Tired. Can’t wait for it to be midnight already. Want this year to be over, you know?”
“Ye
