she noted this somewhere deep in the folds of her brain, to be smart about things rather than so fucking stupid, as she tended to be. Hers was a stupidity she’d tried to reclaim as radical naivete, approaching the world as though wholly new to it—a sense of being Amelia Bedelia, refreshingly literal and sexily oblivious. But oblivion was out, it didn’t work anymore. Being smart was in.
