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“Mm, yeah, no. I can’t deal with you using Guy Fieri catchphrases.” “Well, that’s not very Flavortown of you,” he says, frowning.
“Why do it, then?” she asks. “Why do something that’s probably going to hurt?” “Oh, doll,” he says, sounding for the first time like the much older—and perhaps wiser?—soul he actually is. “Because it hurts so much more not to.”
He’s so fucking ridiculous, Gretchen thinks. And he’s the best friend I’ve ever had.
“I’ve never wanted you because you were useful, Gretchen. I want you because you’re you.”
Love, she’s found, is a lot like the gotcha euphoria she used to experience, but steadier. Reliable. Something she can hold on to for longer than one rapturous moment.
