SOPHIE
"I am officially cutting you off," River announces the second I pull the heavy passenger door of his beat-up Honda shut.
He doesn't even have the key in the ignition. He's just sitting twisted around in the driver's seat, both hands planted firmly on the steering wheel, staring at me like I've committed a personal offense against his aesthetic sensibilities.
In the backseat, Avery drops her bookbag with a heavy thud. "He's been practicing this speech since third period. Just let it happen."
"I don't need a speech," I say, leaning my head back against the faded gray headrest. "I'm just tired."
"No, honey. You're not just tired," River says, pointing a manicured index finger straight at my nose. "You are brooding. I am so tired of this mopey girl routine you've got going on. It i
