“Dude, I am so goddamn depressed.” “First of all, Tony, you are not depressed,” Sebastian Denunzio says without missing a beat as the two sidestep way too many overeager freshmen in the halls of Venice High. “Are you ugly? Yes. Are you broke? Also yes. Did you bomb the physics midterm? Absolutely.” “You give the shittiest pep talks.” “You don’t deserve a pep talk,” Bas tells his friend, and this time, he does stop. “Your dad gave you a Benz for your seventeenth birthday, and you already totaled it. You know what my pop got me for my seventeenth birthday? A phone call. In February.” “Isn’t your
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