Things get to a head a week later, after Greg drives me home from another late shift.
"s**t," I cuss as I rummage in my backpack for my keys, hissing and blaming myself for being so forgetful. Because I always lose my keys in my bag, it always takes me forever to find them, but this time...
I dig harder, sweat prickling on my lower back. God, I'm tired. Swaying on my feet.
Across the driveway, Greg pauses by his own front door.
"I've got it," I call, since I don't want him waiting out here while I scrabble around like an i***t. "I've definitely got them. They're here somewhere."
Greg grunts and lets himself into his house, the door closing with a snap. But he must have known on some level that I'm full of it, because when I stomp over there and knock on his door ten minutes later, it
