Mysitershotfriend [8K × 2K]
Looking back, it wasn’t about Chloe being “hot.” It was about her treating me like a person, not just a kid. She showed up, she was kind, and she confused every teenage hormone I had into something almost tender.
And yeah. You also learn to make a mean cup of coffee.
Her name was Chloe. She was my older sister’s college roommate, and when their sublet fell through in June, my mom—bless her oblivious heart—said, “Of course she can stay in the guest room.” What my mom didn’t realize was that Chloe wasn’t just my sister’s friend . She was, in the most devastating, inconvenient way possible, *my sister’s hot friend.
“See you around, little brother,” she said, ruffling my hair.
We all have that one summer we never quite forget. Mine has a face, a name, and an uncomfortable amount of borrowed lip gloss.
Looking back, it wasn’t about Chloe being “hot.” It was about her treating me like a person, not just a kid. She showed up, she was kind, and she confused every teenage hormone I had into something almost tender.
And yeah. You also learn to make a mean cup of coffee.
Her name was Chloe. She was my older sister’s college roommate, and when their sublet fell through in June, my mom—bless her oblivious heart—said, “Of course she can stay in the guest room.” What my mom didn’t realize was that Chloe wasn’t just my sister’s friend . She was, in the most devastating, inconvenient way possible, *my sister’s hot friend.
“See you around, little brother,” she said, ruffling my hair.
We all have that one summer we never quite forget. Mine has a face, a name, and an uncomfortable amount of borrowed lip gloss.
