“What?” “You’re hilarious.” “I hate you.” “Mean and hilarious.” “I am not,” they said, fake-aghast. They were very, very mean. They knew that. “When the hell have I been mean to you? Besides spitting at you—that was dicey.” Eli almost choked. He straightened and jabbed his chopsticks at them. “Imagine grabbing a possum—like, it’s fuckin’ vicious, snarling, foaming at the mouth, whole nine yards—and you throw it in a metal trashcan, shake the trashcan, and then lock the pissed possum inside a house.” Kye narrowed their eyes and chewed with their mouth open, smacking their lips rudely. “That’s
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