“See what I have to put up with?” he asks me, pointing at Cyrus with a piece of bacon. “I don’t know how you hooked up with him. He doesn’t even seem like he’d be open to a high five, much less a fling.” I feel my brain malfunction for three solid seconds before I remember my little white lie from the airport. With feigned calm, I reply, “Well, his attitude was a lot better when we were making out.” Cyrus chokes on his water.
