What I want to say to you, Holmesy, is that yes, you are exhausting, and yes, being your friend is work.
But you are also the most fascinating person I have ever known, and you are not like mustard.
You are like pizza, which is the highest compliment I can pay a person.”
“I’m just really sorry, Daisy, for not being—” “Jesus Christ, Holmesy, you can sure hold a grudge against yourself.
You are my favorite person. I want to be buried next to you. We’ll have a shared tombstone.
It’ll read, ‘Holmesy and Daisy: They did everything together, except the nasty.’ Anyway, how are you?”
I shrugged. “Want me to keep talking?” I nodded.
“You know how sometimes people will say, like, oh, she really loves the sound of her voice?
I do seriously love the sound of my voice. I’ve got a voice for radio.”
She turned and started walking up the stairs to get in line for the metal detectors.
“So I know what you’re wondering: Daisy, are you still dating Mychal? Where’s your car? What happened to your hair?
The answers are no, sold, and a cut became necessary after Elena intentionally put three pieces of chewed bubble gum in my hair while I was sleeping.
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