“Oh, shit, Quinn! Casey killed herself last night! You did that!”
Quinn rolled her eyes. “Don’t be dramatic, Blair.”
“Seriously! Did you see her face when you called her a thrift-store reject?”
“That wasn’t even a good insult. If she can’t take a joke, fuck her.”
“When you said it, Quinn, I felt something weird. Something—electric. We should tell someone.”
Quinn spun angrily. “Really? A trailer whore like you? Ratting me out?”
Blair’s eyes widened. She attempted to respond, but couldn’t.
“Here.” Quinn handed her a straight razor. “Bathroom’s over there.”
Blair took it obediently, disappearing into the bathroom.
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Phantom by Liam Dragan"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Neuroluxe Implant no 3Z82M99B64 by Bryanna Botham"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Blindly Following Orders by Chris Tattersall"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Donor by Collette Night"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>