“Nah, erythritol,” Pecan corrects. “Remember when I sneaked half a dozen and ended up dying on the toilet?”
Callan snorts. “TMI isn’t a thing with you, Pecan, is it?”
“No, it isn’t,” Denny grouches. “I walked in on him having that shit.”
I drop my hand. “No way!”
“Yeah, he asked me to bring him this book we were sharing for a project in English. Why didn’t I pick girls for friends?”
Pecan shoves out his chest. “Because we’re the superior choice.”
“Yeah.Right. That’s why. Remember when we got detention for stealing Mr. Burringer’s wig?”
“No way,” Callan crows.
“He was the worst math teacher weeverhad,” I concur. “This one day, he made Peeks stand up at the front of the class and answer all these questions.”
“You know better than anyone how much I suck at math, Callan. Each equation I got wrong, he…”
“Humiliated you over?” Denny supplies when Peeks falters.
He grimaces. “So, this particular day, we were walking past his classroom and he was sleeping. Zach braved the sleeping tiger to steal the worst wig in the West.”
“Turns out he was such a douche because he had cancer.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “He died a few months later.”
“We didn’t know that at the time,” D excuses. “How long did we get detention for that one again?”
“Five months, D,” Pecan supplies with a chortle. “Worth it though. I mean, sure, fuck cancer, but he didn’t have to shame me for being stupid.”
I hold out my fist and Pecan bumps it.
“Jo should have been a lawyer,” Denny inserts.
“She should,” I agree. At Callan’s confusion, I explain, “She talked the principal down from a week’s suspension to detentions.”
“Ah.”
“Guys, do you mind if I talk to Zach?” Denny shoots them timid smiles. “I’d appreciate it.”
As they fade out, leaving us alone, I hear Callan ask, “Hey, wanna play my TTRPG with me?”
“Your TTR what now?”
“It’s a table-top?—”
Their voices fade as I focus on her. “Hey, gorgeous.”
“Hey, baby.” That timid smile quivers. “I-I thought I did something wrong.”
“No. You didn’t. I suck. I… I needed some space, but like Callan just told me—we have a few thousand miles between us.”
“There’s that logic of his again.”
“Yeah.” I scrub a hand over my hair. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. If anything, I was backing off because…” My mouth twists. “I’m a dumb guy.”
“Well, you’remydumb guy, so please be nicer about my possessions.”
I smirk. It’s a bit weak, but I still like the sound of that. “Your possessions, huh?”
