Punk 57 PDF, Epub, Mobi by Penelope Douglas

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No, it’s not her. It can’t be. There are tons of girls who probably have

that name. She wouldn’t be here.

But I look at the video, and my gaze is drawn to the names at the top of

the post. She’d tagged the band and a few other people, but then I look at

the name of the person who posted it.

Ryen Trevarrow.

I straighten my back, my chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

Oh, my God.

Shit! I instantly look up, unable to stop myself from scanning the

crowd, drifting from face to face.

Any one of these girls could be her. She’s here? What the fuck?

I look down at the iPad again and hover my finger over her name,

hesitating.

Seven years I’ve known her, but I’ve never seen her face. If I search her

out now, there’s no going back.

But she’s here. I can’t not look for her. Not when I know she could be

within arm’s reach.

That’s too much to ask of anyone.

And we never promised we wouldn’t look each other up on Facebook.

We simply said we wouldn’t communicate on social media. For all I know

she’s searched for me. She could be looking for me right now, knowing

what band I belong to and that this is our event. Maybe that’s why she’s

here.

Fuck it. I tap her name and stand frozen as her profile comes up.

And then I see her.

Her picture appears, my stomach drops, and I stop breathing.

Christ.