Always and forever, Lara Jean [antikvár]

1 I LIKE TO WATCH PETER WHEN HE DOESN'T know I'm looking. 1 like to admire the straight line of his jaw, the curve of his cheekbone. There's an openness to his face, an innocence—a certain kind of niceness. It's the nice-ness that touches my heart the most. It's Friday night at Gabe Rivera's house after the lacrosse game. Our school won, so everyone is in very fme spirits, Peter most of aU, because he scored the winning shot. He's across the room playing poker with some of the guys from his team; he is sitting with his chair tipped back, his back against the wall. His hair is still wet from showering after the game. I'm on the couch with my friends Lucas Krapf and Pammy Subkoif, and they're flipping through the latest issue of Teen Vogue, debating whether or not Pammy should get bangs. "What do you think, Lara Jean?" Pammy asks, running her fingers through her carrot-colored hair. Pammy is a new fi-iend—I've gotten to know her because she dates Peter's good firiend Darrell. She has a face Uke a doll, round as a cake pan, and freckles dust her face and shoulders like sprinkles. "Um, I think bangs are a very big commitment and not to be decided on a whim. Depending on how fast your hair grows, you could be growing them out for a year or more.