We eat in silence for a few minutes when I ask, “How old are you?” Theo sets the box of food onto the counter and folds his arms across his chest. Oh, here he goes again, getting all defensive. “Come on, man. It makes me uneasy to fuck around with you and not know anything about you. It might work for you, being all detached and shit, but it makes me feel weird.” He ponders that a moment and then says, “Twenty-four.” Ah, so he’s a little older than me. “You undergrad?” “No, graduate.” Fuck, that’s impressive. This dude is super smart. I mean, I knew that. But now I know that. “I’m twenty-two.
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