“You think we’ll keep it?” Kylie asked, more curious than doubtful.
Kylie woke to the low thrum of late-night laughter bleeding through thin walls. The sleepover had promised pizza, movies, and the freedom of staying up past her parents’ curfew; it had turned into something else—an experiment in memory and mischief. She padded across the living room, where a tangle of sleeping bodies and tossed blankets made the couch look like a patchwork island. A TV flickered the credits of the fourth movie they'd put on and a half-eaten slice of cold pizza lay abandoned on the coffee table. 344 missax the sleepover kylie rocket whitney w
