Anonymous
We all have that one summer we never quite forget. Mine has a face, a name, and an uncomfortable amount of borrowed lip gloss. mysitershotfriend
I nodded, throat tight.
And yeah. You also learn to make a mean cup of coffee. Anonymous We all have that one summer we
I was seventeen. Chloe was twenty, wore ripped band tees like they were couture, and laughed with her whole body. She also had this habit of making coffee in the morning while leaning against the counter in nothing but an oversized hoodie and socks. The kitchen became my personal obstacle course of trying not to stare. And yeah
She’d ask about my summer reading. She taught me how to parallel park in our cul-de-sac. Once, she even defended me at dinner when my sister made fun of my “weird” taste in music. “Let him like what he likes,” Chloe said, winking. I nearly choked on a breadstick.
So here’s to the sister’s hot friend. You don’t end up with her. But you do end up learning how you want to be seen—and how you want to see others.