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Chapter 60

“So, how ‘bout it? You gonna let me come with you on break?”

Beau crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall. “I was under the impression that, really, I’m not likely to be able to stop you.”

“I might take it into consideration if you didn’t actually want me there. But worrying that I’ll be bored isn’t the same. You’re just being all adorably you-ish. You’d likeme to be there, but you don’t want to askme to come be moral support after having to spend a weekend with your family in which everyone is going to ask you when you’re getting married and have you met any new girls yet and you have to wear awkward rental clothing with a powder blue cummerbund and make toasts to your brother and his bride, and probably—the worst of all possible fates—having to do the chicken dance at the reception. Am I summing this up adequately?”

“Pretty sure the cummerbund is black,” Beau said. “All right, you win.”