“If this were a buddy movie,” I said, “I would put my arm around your shoulders.” “Please don’t touch me.” We walked, the waves rolling gently over our feet. “I’m sorry,” I said after a time. “For what?” “Being an idiot. Giving you more work. Making you work with the bro.” He seemed to think about this. “There’s so much about you I don’t like,” he said, looking at the sand. “Where do I even start?”
