Chapter Three
Not even the sight of Leah’s spiky blonde locks bobbing from side to side improved my mood as I watched her jamming to the tunes filtering through her headphones while she belted out her own rendition of “Crazy Train.” Fitting, I mused.
“Whaassup buttercup?” she drawled, taking in my bemused expression.
“Besides the fact you’re butchering a classic, you mean? Perhaps you should consider lip-synching. Silently.”
My best friend slowly removed the headphones and put her hands up in surrender. “Whoa. What’s the matter with you? Someone replace your Lucky Charms with Shredded Wheat? Wait—Nicoh didn’t eat all my Nutty Bars again, did he? If that furball so much as—”
“No, wisecracker. Two words: Winslow. Clark.”
She nodded, letting out a low whistle as she plopped onto a kitch
