“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“But you owe me your clever answer about squirrel and bird lesbians.”
“I’ll think of something on my long, arduous, cold, and lonely walk over.”
“Walk? Why don’t you run?”
“Because I’ll be all hot and sweaty when I get there.”
“Uh huh. Yes, please.”
“I guess it’s the least I could do.”
“Yeah, especially given what I’m thinking about right now.”
“Oh, really?”
“Run! Run!”
“Running!”
* * * *
Should he do something corny, he wondered, as he passed the twenty-four-hour supermarket on East Avenue, like get a bottle of wine? Or a big bouquet of roses? Or should he just race to Jason’s place? He wasn’t exactly sure if he’d been forgiven yet, totally, but the fact they’d been able to crack jokes was a good sign.
Wine at five A.M.? Stupid idea. Roses? Maybe. They still
