“Holmesy. I’m so fucking done with the idea that there’s nobility in turning down money.”
“But it’s—like, we only got this money because we know someone.”
“Yeah, and Davis Pickett only got his money because he knew someone, specifically his father.
This is not illegal or unethical. It’s awesome.” She was staring out the windshield.
It had started to drizzle a littleone of those cloudy days in Indiana when the sky feels very close to the ground.
Out on Ditch Road, a stoplight turned yellow, then red. “I’m gonna go to college,” she said. “And not at night.”
“I mean, it’s not enough to pay for all of college.” She smiled.
“Yeah, I know it’s not enough to pay for all of college, Professor Buzzkill. But it is fifty thousand dollars, which will make college a hell of a lot easier.”
She turned to me and grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. “HOLMESY. BE HAPPY. WE ARE RICH.”
She pulled a single hundred-dollar bill from one of the stacks and pocketed it. “Let’s have the finest meal Applebee’s has to offer.”
At our usual table, Daisy and I shocked Holly by ordering two sodas.
When she returned with our drinks, she asked Daisy, “You want the Blazin’ Texan burger?”
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