“Oh, you are such an asshole,” she screamed, throwing her hands up. “Now I’m glad I said it. And you know what else, Gerard Gibson? Your jokes aren’t even funny half the time. That’s right. You have shit craic.” “How dare you!” I staggered back, feeling like she had physically struck me. “My craic is ninety.” “Your craic is mediocre,” Claire called over her shoulder, storming through the tree line. “Now go away!”
