“You can call me Silas or babe. Those are your options.” “Ew, I wouldn’t call you babe. That feels weird to me. I like it when guys call me that, but I can’t do it in return.” “Then Silas it is.” “But that’s so boring,” I grumble. “How about . . .” “Silas.” “Ugh, fine.” “And I swear to God, Ollie, if you slip up when we’re out together, and you just happen to call me fart face, I’m going to murder you.” “You don’t give me enough credit. If I slipped up and called you anything, it would be donkey pervert. God, Silas, get it right.”
