“Thank you for what you did today,” she says, fingers curling in the hair at the nape of my neck. “Tossing Matt’s book in the lake.” The reminder has me wishing I could go get it and do it all over again. Maybe set it on fire. “It was my pleasure.” “And for letting me hang with your friends and intrude on your life. For everything, I guess.” “You don’t need to thank me for any of it. I’m glad you’re here.” “Me too.”
