Page 66 of Hate You, Maybe
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Reasons Why Dexter Michaels
Might Not be the Actual Worst:
a slightly less wordy brain dump
He wasn’t fazed by my tampon debacle. Or the fact that I had three boxes.
Jojo. No one with a sister that great can be all bad. Probably.
He remembers to knock. And also my middle name.
There’s Neosporin in his travel bag. (See also: he’s gentle with blisters.)
Clarence the Teddy Bear and secret tattoos—right to the moon and back.
He’s NOT into Tori.
He doesn’t snore, at least from what I heard.
Morning bedhead. (See also: Bedhead at most times of day.)
Feelings soup. It’s what’s for dinner.
