"What've you got there?" she asked. We sat next to each other almost every day.
"Cinnamon toothpick" I reply.
"Why?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why do you have a cinnamon toothpick? I've never heard of them."
"Growing up my parents bought them, and stumbled across them on the internet and got like 200 of them for like $7."
"Interesting."
"I know they're weird, but I really like them. They're comforting.
"Can I have one?"
That makes me nervous.
"Uh-" I dribble, a little shocked, "yeah, of course."
I flick the box a little so one pokes out, she takes it.
"Wow, these are great", she comments.
Such a simple request knocks me off balance, but sitting within the wake she makes is much better than standing on solid ground anywhere else.
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