Cruz: Wow. Blaming me for helping you with your personal growth. Rude.
Cruz: Also, I forgive you for hanging up on me.
Me: I was fine. Well-adjusted. Only mildly homicidal.
Cruz: You stabbed a plant with a letter opener our second week of knowing each other.
Me: It was a plant…
Cruz: It was a sign of violence. And obviously it was important that I gave that violence structure.
Me: I’m sitting in the car watching her apply for jobs while her husband smokes in their bed.
Cruz: Ah. So we’re back in that spiral.
Me: I hate him.
Cruz: You hate a lot of people.
Me: No. This is different. This is…creative hate.
Cruz: I think Gage said that just last night.
Me: Once again I’m going to instruct you to not compare me to someone who drinks his milk with ice.
Me: You can drink it with a corn dog and be okay.
Me: But you can’t drink it with ice.
Cruz: Okay, see, I feel like there were underlying murdery thoughts somewhere in there.
Me: …
Cruz: Lincoln Daniels asked you for another favor, didn’t he?
Me: Why would you assume that?
Cruz: Because you just did that stupid … thing that he and his friends are all about.
Me: You sound jealous. But I can’t tell if it’s because Golden Boy texted me or because I texted him back.
Cruz: …
Cruz: Jagger.
Me: What?
Cruz: When are you going to kill the guy? It would be nice if you could help with this Irish thing instead of hyperfixating and then spiraling on a daily basis.
Me: I am helping. Case in point: Luther’s balls last night.
Cruz: I’m actually going to check that your story really happened because I find it far more likely you were sitting on your couch crocheting.
Me: …
Cruz: Okay, I’ll admit I am jealous that you were talking to Lincoln Daniels.
Me: I knew that already, but we’re going to have to circle back to that because I’m more interested in why you would ever assume I would be crocheting at any point.