By the amazing Steve Brezenoff
Fuck fuck fuck fuck . . .
“Wait,” I say through my clenched teeth, and I shift around on the floor and grab at the bunched-up beach towel under me. It doesn’t do a great job making the tiles of the third-floor girls’ bathroom comfortable.
“Christ, Jelly!” Izzy snaps at me as she flinches. Jelly, by the way, is me. […]