Page 21 of Accidentally Amy

I wasn’t sure how she was making me laugh when I’d wanted to shake her a few hours earlier, but I scratched Goodyear’s head and said, “I’m taking it as a compliment, no matter what you say.”

“Suit yourself. Honest question—can you do a one-handed push-up?”

“Probably…?”

“Fascinating. I will file that little morsel away to revisit later.” She made a noise in her throat and said, “Okay, third fact about me. Also, I hope you’re preparing yours.”

“My what?”

“Your five facts, dumbass. This is important.”

“I never said that I would—”

“Number three,” she said, using the same tone a teacher would use if a student were interrupting, “I’m a little obsessed with sports fanfic.”

I said, “I’ll be honest—I don’t know what those words mean.”

“You don’t know what fanfic is?” she asked.

“I mean, sort of,” I said. “It’s just, like, people making up new stories about existing works, right?”

“Yes.” She sounded a little impressed. “And these are fictional stories about real athletes and teams.”

“LikeactualNFL players?”

“Yes.”

“Ah. Okay,” I said, even though I didn’t really understand it.

“Obviously you don’t understand, and that’s fine. I’ll be sure to say, ‘Ah, okay,’ about your number three when your turn comes around.”

“I’m not—”

“Number four,” she barked out, a smile in her voice, “I grew up here, have a brother—Alex—in Phoenix, and I was briefly famous in eighth grade when a video of me falling down my school’s stairs went viral.”

“I will need a link or it isn’t true,” I said, turning my head so I didn’t get a mouthful of tail as Goodyear started walking in circles on my chest, trying to get comfortable.

“Sending right now,” she said, laughing. My phone buzzed with a text notification. “But if you make fun of my hair, I swear to God I will shank you with an ice pick.”

“Do youhavean ice pick?” I asked.

“Of course not. Does anyone? Has anyone in the history of life ever needed an ice pick, other than, um, ice harvesters?”

“I don’t think ice harvester is a thing,” I said.

“Agree to disagree. Okay. Are you ready for number five?”

“I don’t know, am I?”

“You can’t be.”

“Then I’m not.”

“All right.” It sounded like she let out a huge breath before she said, “Number five. I totaled my car on the interstate last year when I sneezed.”

I couldn’tnotsmile. Again, even as Goodyear’s claws dug into my thigh. “Yeah, I’m gonna need more information. Also, I’m assuming you were okay…?”

“I was fine. My foot involuntarily slammed on the brakes when I sneezed,” she explained, “which sent a Honda CRV slamming into my backside, which pushed me into the side of a Ford Expedition.”

---