Danny's POV
The lecture hall was freezing, the kind of air-conditioned tundra that makes you wonder if the university is sponsored by a parka company. I sat there, slumped in my seat, staring at the empty chalkboard while my brain replayed the drama from last night.
“Sorry? About what?”
The words were stuck in my head on a loop, like a glitchy t****k sound. I actually let out a dry, hysterical chuckle. I couldn't help it. My stepfather had shown up at my dorm with a bouquet of pink roses the size of a shrub and a Google searched list of what feminine boys loved and when I asked for an apology for him being a sociopath, he looked at me like I was speaking ancient Greek.
Was he actually that clueless? Or was he just so toxic that his brain physically couldn't process the concept of bein
