My guitar's name was Liz. As in, short for Elizabeth, Queen of England. She was a lady.Don't judge.

We could stay. You could sleep it off and we can still go to Disney with everyone tomorrow. Don’t you want to go to Fantasyland?” I batted my eyelashes.Jackson ran his thumb and forefinger over his lip, catching his grin and a speck of dried blood at once. The second that grin appeared, it was as if the entire evening’s events evaporated. “Why, Emma Pierce, do you want me to take you to Fantasyland and make all of your dreams come true?” He winked with his good eye. It was painfully adorable.