“We’re all a little weird. And life is a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness—and call it love.”
“Lizzy, you had better be taking care of Hank up there,” I said looking up at the roof during our extremely bumpy bus ride.
“Shirine, the bikes can’t hear you,” Kevin scolded me teasingly.
With an exaggerated sad face I turned to him and said quite seriously, “Kevin, those bikes can understand us, please don’t hurt their feelings.”
“No, no,” he emended, “I meant they can’t hear you over the noise of the road.”