Juni stood in my garage, wearing a dress.
It was white and flowy and annoyingly angelic. But most of all, it was short.
“What the hell are you wearing?”
“Happy birthday, Julian,” Juni said, ignoring my question.
“It’s January,” I muttered, still stuck on her choice of attire.
“Yes, I’m aware. Your birthday has always been on January 8th. My birthday has always been on July 8th. It would be odd if they suddenly changed to different months.”
“I don’t understand why you’re wearing that,” I continued. “The heaters in here aren’t very warm.” She was going to catch a fucking cold.
“I told her she should wear it because she looks hot,” Gemma cut in, handing a soda to Juni. “Don’t you think, Jules?”
I frowned at my sister while refusing to look at her friend.
And refusing to answer that question.
