“Fine. Have it your way.”
“I will. My way suits me.”
“Whatever, Misery.”
“That’s Safari to you, Mister Stick-Up-My-Ass.”
“Who’s the immature one now?”
She points at the front door. “Get out, Seven. You saved my life. I returned what I borrowed. We’re even.”
I grab my stuff and stomp out of her place.
Even?
Not by a long shot.