“When are you going to give her the ring?” Harrison asks. “Give who a ring?” Elle asks. “You,” Harrison says. “What ring?” She looks over at me. I keep both eyes on the road. “The diamond one he stuck in his pocket before he left home.” “Little shit,” I mumble. “Diamond ring, huh? How many carats? Seven?” I ignore her. I ignore both of them. Several minutes later, Mr. Delayed Response says, “Ha! That was funny. Seven. She said that because you called her a seven. Seventy percent. You gave Elle a D. Remember that?”
