“Shit. Dean and I had gone from workout buddies to acting like a bunch of overanalysing pussies. Next thing you knew, we’d start having our periods at the same time.”

“It was fucking weird. They had gone from a sickening, "in love" couple doing a duet to the complete opposite in the span of two songs. Who knew the Beatles were still so controversial.”

“I knew what song was next and I knew who I was dancing with. My wife.”

“Hello?” Bird’s stoic voice answered. “Hi, Bird?” This is Dex Foray, we met back in Red Fox last October…”“Dex,” he pronounced my name slowly. “I knew it was you.”“Oh,” I said, taken aback. Shit, maybe he was more new agey than I thought. “Could you sense me?”“No, I have caller ID”

“Maybe you’re sleepwalking. And sleeptexting. And sleepprimping.”“What’s next?” I grumbled to myself. Things were getting more out of control by the minute.“I don’t know,” she said, straightening up and tucking her phone into the waistband of her leggings. “Just don’t start sleepfucking.”

“I'd give everything to back to that moment and make things right.""Would you really? Would you go back in time and change that, if you could?""No. No, maybe not. Because then I wouldn't have this. I wouldn't have you. I have to live with my mistakes, but I don't have to regret them. I regret my actions but I can't regret the consequences.”

“Well, the flannel-coated pussy stealer won’t be taking care of her for much longer,” I said, unbuckling my seatbelt. She looked at me blankly. Perhaps she didn’t appreciate her sister being referred to as “pussy”. I cleared my throat. “I meant flannel-coated…ginger douche.”She dipped her chin and said dryly, “Dude, the term is douchecanoe.”