gleerant:
“What is this?” You stare at the envelope in her hands, then at the solemn smirk on her face. She looks half-defeated, half-hopeful.
“Mami said to go to New York.”
“Really? But…”
“I’m going.”
“Oh.” You try to muster up your usual encouragement, but you’re just so emotionally spent.
For whatever reason, she can’t stop smiling at you.
“Got any plans for the weekend, Britt?”

