ANNIE:Nowhere. I made it up. Was I not supposed to do that?
CONNOR:No that’s fine, that’s exactly how I do it
I’ll say this for Connor: he never misses a beat. It’s refreshing to talk to someone where you don’t have to explain you’re kidding all the time.
CONNOR:I thought you weren’t working today
ANNIE:I’m not, just finishing a couple of things before I head back to nyc
ANNIE:Which brings me to what I really came here to tell you…
CONNOR:Let’s hear it
ANNIE:I’ve got my fun fact
CONNOR:We’ve been here before
ANNIE:No seriously
CONNOR:This one better be good
So far Connor has rejected the three fun facts I’ve attempted to give him on the grounds they’re not “fun enough,” which is rich considering his is essentially a humblebrag about how good he is at chess, the least cool game in the world. But all his talk about competitions got me thinking. This time, I think I’ve finally gotit.
ANNIE:So there’s this ice cream shop in our town and when I was a kid they ran a competition where you could invent your own ice cream flavor and if you won they’d make your flavor
ANNIE:You had to do everything—come up with the flavor, the name, design the carton, all of it
ANNIE:I was OBSESSED with this competition
ANNIE:I took it super seriously
CONNOR:That adds up
ANNIE:I entered multiple times with multiple flavors
He beats me to the punch before I can finish typing out the end of the story.
CONNOR:Did you win?
ANNIE:Excuse me, can you WAIT
CONNOR:Sorry
CONNOR:Continue
ANNIE:I won!
CONNOR:haha
CONNOR:What was the flavor?
ANNIE:Sorry, that’s not part of the fun fact.
CONNOR:Oh come on
I’m so busy grinning down at my computer screen that I miss the sound of Shannon’s silver Mercedes swinging into thedriveway, and hastily typeBRBbefore slamming the laptop shut and shoving it into my bag. There’s a faint mechanical buzzing, and then her head appears.
“I popped the trunk.”
