“Here’s the list of stuff I don’t like: apples, the fork in my bowl, Honey Nut Cheerios, eggplant parmesan, worms, watching baseball, and Taylor Swift.”

“What are you talking about? You’re like a professional boyfriend.”“Thanks. You make me sound like a gigolo.”

“You were worried about me?” “Of course I was, buddy. I would never have forgiven myself if something had happened. You didn’t think I’d be worried about you?” “No. I didn’t think you cared.” Dad looks sad. And surprised. I’m not sure why. “Really, buddy? You didn’t think I cared?” “No.” “Well, I do. A lot.” “Okay.” “I guess I need to do a better job of showing you.” “Yes. You could do a better job.” Dad laughs. And he hugs me again.”

“I play by the rules even when there aren’t any.”

“See what I mean? Your confidence is so strong it’s obnoxious.”

“We both smile at the classic misunderstanding. It’s all so cliché-ridden, it’s embarrassing. I wish our story could have some more original twists and turns. Maybe one of us will turn into a vampire or something.”

“Guys find me neutered, detached, invisible. I’m Switzerland. The girls Max dates are Brazil.”