
Color me flabbergasted. I have no idea what that means, to “color me,” but I see it in books and I like the image it brings to mind. What color would flabbergasted look like, hmm?
I stretch and plop onto my bed, suddenly exhausted. Do all teenagers find life so utterly draining?
I hear a car door slam, someone laughs. I pull aside my curtain to spy on Libby and what’s-his-face. Hey, if she’s going to give me mussar schmoozes, I’m not going to call her date by his name.
She looks happy. And really pretty. She’s laughing and I can’t see his face, whatever it’s called, but his hat is tipped back in a way that makes me think he’s laughing too. Which is nice. I think couples should laugh together, in my humble opinion.
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