Wes’ POV

“I’m going to ask you this once and only once.” Manny leaned over me, light shining into my eyes dramatically like he was a cop interrogating me on those shows Mrs. L liked to watch in-between meals and with tea. He was only wearing his ripped-up jeans, and I leaned back to avoid the grease paint smeared all over his chest, neck, and face. “Are you, by any chance, stupid? Like clinically. Medically?”

“Psychologically,” Cameron added, on his ...