91. Kendra
Kendra
Papi: Are you home?
I pick my phone up off my desk.
Me: Yes.
Papi: I’ll be there in ten.
Me: Okay.
I set my phone back down.
I haven’t spoken to Luther since the coffee shop yesterday. And I just feel… uneasy.
Jittery.
We need to talk. I know we do.
And as much as I know it has to be done, I am not looking forward to telling my dad about us.
I stand, needing fresh air.
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