“I don’t know, but I mean it, call me next time.” “Can we at least pretend there won’t be a next time?” “You’re too optimistic. There’s always a next time.” She put her hands on her hips. “Maybe you’re too pessimistic.” “I’m not pessimistic, I’m realistic. There’s a difference.” She opened her mouth as if to reply, but stopped and looked around. “Where’s Max? Max!” I didn’t see him, either. He’d been sniffing around her front yard a minute ago.
