« Like, chosen. To be laughed with. »
« It’s sweet. »
I smiled at the fridge so he wouldn’t see me smile at him.
« That’s a nice way to say it. »
He spent one whole Saturday evening at the kitchen table with a shopping tab open, agonizing over a small gift. A keychain shaped like a fox, because she’d said once she liked foxes.
« Is this stupid? » he asked.
« It’s sweet. »
His face wiped clean of everything.
« That’s a yes on stupid. »
« It’s sweet, Lucas. »