“Well, I’m here, ain’t I? Why else would I be in America if I didn’t?”
“Dude. You need to tell her.”
“I will, yeah,” he says sarcastically. “Pizza, then?” He walks away, and I swear I can see his lower lip quivering.
“I’ll order it.”
“Order coffee too, will ya? This fucking machine is broken, I think.”
They both pick up the tumblers from the living room and bring them to the sink, where Nolan washes them.
My ma’s right. They’re good guys. But I still want them out of here so I can be alone with my thoughts of Birdie and what she’s going to do to my whatever until I whatever.
Whatever it is, I am beyond ready for it.