“Just keep it for now,” I say. “It’s like the smallest thing in your life that you need to figure out.” He laughs. “You sound like my therapist.” “A lot of your insults are compliments, I think.” Snow leans back on the headboard. “You’re both always telling me that I have bigger things to worry about.” “Or—” I rest my chin on my violin and pull the bow over the strings. “—maybe we’re both telling you to worry less, in general.” “I don’t think that’s what she meant.” “You should call her and ask.” He narrows his eyes at me. “You’re not clever.” I play another note. “I am.”
