Chapter 18
Cassie
By Wednesday afternoon, I had officially reached the point in the semester where my planner looked more like a crime scene than an organizational tool.
Every square was filled with scribbled reminders, color-coded sticky notes peeked out from the sides, and somewhere between my sociology paper, Delta obligations, and preparing for midterms, I’d somehow volunteered to help decorate for Homecoming.
Again.
Apparently, I had a serious problem saying yes.
“You’re staring at that planner like it’s personally offended you.”
I looked up to find Sophia walking beside me, balancing an iced coffee in one hand and her backpack over the opposite shoulder.
“I think it has.”
She laughed.
“No, sweetheart. You offend yourself. The planner is just documenting the evidence.”
“I d
