“You’re something else, Buddy,” he said. I set the T-shirt I’d been in the middle of folding down and squinted. “Can I ask you something?” “What do you think?” I groaned. “Why do you call me ‘Buddy’? I’ve never heard you call Am that, or anybody else.” His eyebrows crept up his forehead at the same time as his mouth stretched into an even more rare supermoon of a smile. “You don’t know?” “Am I supposed to?” “I thought you would,” he replied cryptically, still grinning. I shook my head. “No idea. I used to think you called me ‘angel’ because you thought that was my name, but now I know you
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