Day 18

"You are the Dancing Queen. Young and Sweet. Only Seventeen." Kyle closed his birthday card and smirked. "Sure you don't mean Dancing King?"

"It's how Abba sung it. Why mess with a good thing," I replied with a smirk in return.

"Okay, well as much as I love 70s standards, I do not fit the lyrics at all. I was never Sweet for one."

"You didn't mind being sweet on your sixteenth birthday."

Kyle put his hands in his lap and made an exasperated sigh. "Because the term Sweet Sixteen is and has grown punnier and punnier with each decade. I thought you were being sarcastic for once. That being said I was never actually sweet."

"I don't believe you. Whatever you did for Tripoli, she felt like she owed you one. An act of kindness is not far from being sweet." Kyle shook his head.

"An act of kindness it might have been, but I wasn't sweet then."

"What did you do for Tripoli then, for her to feel like she owed you?" I asked Kyle.

Kyle sighed as he said, "That's Tripoli's story to tell."

He gave me a smug smile after he said that. "Well, it's not likely I'll be seeing Tripoli ever again." Kyle shrugged and nodded his head.

"Probably. Want to watch the Fight Club movie? Abraham had a copy and gave it to me. He can't believe I've never watched it."

"Sure." So Kyle and I watched Fight Club on his seventeenth birthday.