BY MORGAN DOCURRAL
I roll over to my side. My blankets are intertwined with my legs. As I struggle for them to release me, I remember my best friend, Trevor, is asleep on the floor. I stop and call a truce. My phone buzzes. I reach over to grab it when my fingers miss. It falls onto the floor, landing on top of Trevor’s chest.
“Shit!” I utter, “I’m sorry.”