-Glyndon Walton: (Song of the Chapter: Favourite by Isabel LaRosa)
It has been week, and today is the day we're heading to France. I guess I should be excited, but all I feel is this weird mix of anticipation and dread.
Right now, I'm standing in my room, watching Clara pack my bags like she always does, her voice a constant stream of instructions.
"You need to be careful, Glyndon," she said, folding one of my shirts neatly and placing it in the suitcase. "Text me when you get there. Don't forget to check your belongings, and for the love of God, don't trust anyone with your wallet. Oh, and make sure your passport—"
Her words turned into background noise as I zoned out, my thoughts drifting to the last encounter I had with Kathrine on her bike.
Her body against mine.
The way she held herself so confidently. The feeling of my arms around her tiny waist. I shook my head, trying to push the memory away, but it stuck like glue.
