BRITNEY
Staring at the text from Tristin, I had two choices: stay in and mope about Josh or go out with Tristin and try to enjoy a nice Saturday. After the last ten months of chaos, the summer was finally here, and Tristin had asked me to go out with him for my birthday. Maybe an afternoon out was what I needed for a bit of clarity, or at very minimum, a distraction.
“You got a new car,” I squealed, as I climbed into the shiny black Mustang, running my hands along the smooth leather seats, examining it.
“Yeah, do you like it?”
“I do. Very classy,” I said, sinking into the seat and snapping my seatbelt firmly in place, when it suddenly occurred to me that maybe he got rid of the Lexus because of the accident. “Was it because of me?”
“No, not at all. Nothing at all to do with the accide
