“But if they taste bad, that’s an omen.” “An omen for what?” “That we don’t have good chemistry.” I lower my éclair and give her an amused look. “Are you really going to base our chemistry off an éclair and not the fact that every time we’re around each other, we have no problem holding a conversation?” “I could hold a conversation with a paper clip if you asked me to,” she says. “So yes, I’m basing our chemistry off an éclair.” “Wow, well then, if that’s the case, I’d like to say that these smell like absolute heaven.” Her expression falls. “You have just relinquished your opinion.” I pause
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