"You okay?" Scott asked, watching me falter.
"It just sucks that if the situation was reversed and I was the one that was missing, she wouldn't have a photo of me to pull out of her purse," I said, a raw feeling attacking my senses. "You should be glad your dad cares enough to not want you with me."
I took a step forward, but he took my hand and pulled me back to him. Then he took his wallet out of his pocket.
"First of all, if you ever went missing, heaven forbid, I would be your photo in the wallet guy," he said, taking a photo out of his wallet to show me.
The edges were frayed as though from being handled constantly.
"Why do you still keep this in your wallet? You have hundreds of photos of me. Why this one? I look like s**t," I complained, a younger version of me staring back at
