“It sucks not talking to you,” I said as Miller strummed the first chords of the song. “I don’t know why. You’re arrogant as fuck.” “Fair. You’re a grilled cheese sandwich.” I snorted. “A what?” “Shh,” Holden said. “Listen. This is our song.” Our song. Nothing was ours. There was no us. But Miller sang that if you never try, you’ll never know, and the words pierced me like arrows.
