Ryan

As I settled into the desk chair in my dorm room, I watched Whitney perch on the edge of my bed, her wavy brown hair cascading over her shoulders. Her warm brown eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were now clouded with pain. It had been over a month since we really, really talked, and I could see the toll her breakup with Liam had taken on her.

"I just don't understand, Lyra," Whitney began, her voice quivering with suppressed emotion. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem ...