“They must suspect,” I say. “The rockstar part at least. Your hair is four different shades of red.” “They think it’s a phase.” “Maybe you could write them a song.” His laugh booms. “I like you,” he says. “I like you, too,” I say back. “You could call the song ‘This Apple Has Fallen Very, Very, Very Far from the Tree.’ ” “I’m not even sure I’m an apple,” Zach says, laughing.
Lolll
