“You… I…” She shakes her head. “I’m sorry, you brought home-cooked bacon for the dog?” “Uh, yeah? Everyone likes bacon.” She wrinkles her nose. “I don’t.” “Oh, fuck off.” The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them, and I sit in absolute horror as the realization of what I said settles over Rory. One. Two. Three. That’s how many seconds it takes her to let out the loudest, most obnoxious laugh I’ve ever heard.
