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LJ and Marisa barreled down the steps arguing about so Probably whether or not an ant could lift an ant-sized car or who could hold their breath the longest They’d never learned the fine art of not sounding like they were in a wrestling ether

“Oh, a guitar I didn’t know you played” Marisa hopped down from the last step

Keyton ducked his head “I don’t”

“What’s up with the guitar if you don’t play?” LJ juet it in

Keyton shifted the case and held onto it with both hands “I—I’ onto it for a friend”

Marisa laughed “That’s so sweet of you Nice and caring to do so like that in your roo deal, not so someone how to make ramen noodles or French toast”

And just like that the conversation had nothing to do with Keyton He took the opening to dart upstairs

“Ris, we had to throw out that pot the last time you attempted to make pasta”

I shuddered The burnt sered in the house for a week

“That’s why I need you to show me We can make up a battle plan”

“I’d need sorumbled

I grabbed a twizzler from my stash on the counter Food always co would be okay That’s what happened when you didn’t groith much of it

But I had my chance This would be my year, but there was still that faint nails-on-a-chalkboard fear that things wouldn’t pan out the way I dared to hope they would

TLG, my senior year season as a Fulton U Trojan, the draft, and a plan I’d set indoith one blown out knee One bad grade One fuck up

There was a lot on the line this year I took a bite out of the licorice and followed LJ and Marisa into the living room