Page 169 of Dear Love, I Hate You (Easton High 1)

Turns out punching someone hurts like a motherf…

By the time I totter out of the bathroom, the music is back and louder than ever. I can feel my phone buzzing with texts from Dia, but I’m too far gone to answer.

“Sorry,” I slur when I bump into someone on my way out.

The stranger cracks a throaty laugh in response.

“Don’t worry about it, Vee-card.”

I stop dead, panic suffocating me, and swivel around.

“L-Logan?”