“We Need Your Apartment For The Weekend,” She Texted—Without Asking

it awkward—was Megan’s favorite weapon. She created situations with so much momentum that your only options were compliance or being labeled “difficult.” I caved. Changed the sheets, hid anything expensive, left a spare key under the mat like an idiot.

When I came home Sunday night, my apartment smelled like weed and Axe body spray. Beer bottles on continue reading …