I haven’t been home for Thanksgiving in six years. A couple days before I leave to head home, I am informed that my brother’s best friend, and also my huge, obnoxious adolescent crush, will be there as well.
So among a shaky work situation, a newfound potato chip addiction, and the usual stress of heading home for the holidays, I have a sudden urge to prove that I was no longer the mumbling, bumbling girl in Hogwarts robes and her nose in a book.
Not that anything was going to happen between us. Those hopes had died around the time I headed off to college.