“What does he smell like?” “Smell like?” I scrunched up my face. “You know, he looks like he’d smell good.”

“You know what, you need to stay out of my bedroom. You have your own.” He smiled. “I know I do. I see it quite often. I just prefer your bed. It smells better.” I made a face. “It smells better? What does your bed smell like? Regret and bad taste?”

“What does your bed smell like? Regret and bad taste?”

“You smell so good. They should bottle you up and sell you. Make millions.”

“You don't look like an alien!' It seemed important to point that out. He arched a brow. 'And what do aliens look like?''Not...not like you,' I sputtered. 'They aren't gorgeous--''You think I'm gorgeous?' He smiled.”

“He…he kisses like he’s dying of thirst, and I’m water.” I smacked my hands over my hot face. “I can’t believe I just said that out loud.” Lesa giggled. “Sounds like one of those romance books you read.” “It does.” I started giggling. “But, oh Lordie Lord, it’s true. I’m like a puddle of mush when he kisses me. It’s embarrassing. I’m so, like, ‘Thank you, can I have another?’ Sad.”

“A smell of burned hair and cotton wafted into the air as I spun toward my desk. There was a low whine from the desk and then smoke billowed out of my closed laptop.I gaped.My precious, perfectly brand new laptop I cherished like one would a small child.Son of a mother…Friend or not, it was so on”