It Starts with Us by Colleen Hoover

over me. Josh reminds me a lot of myself, and devotion is a trait we have in
spades.
“Atlas?” Josh says my name right as I put the car in drive.
“Yeah?”
“Can I flip him off?”
I stare back at Tim and his truck and his house. It’s an immature request,
but one I happily respond to with, “Please do.”
Josh leans as far toward my window as his seat belt will allow. I roll down
the window and honk the horn. Tim looks over at us right as I start to drive
away.
Josh flips him off and yells, “Ass hole,” out my window. Once we’re out
of Tim’s eyesight, Josh falls back against his seat, laughing.
“It’s asshole, Josh. One word.”
“Asshole,” he says, pronouncing it the correct way.
“Thank you. Now stop saying it. You’re twelve.”