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She rolled her eyes. “Not famous. Just… Irishmen love their family,” she explained matter of factly. “I mean, of course, I’m just a fourth, a smidgen but they still treat me like I came from the motherland herself,” she said in her best Irish accent. Then she grinned and pushed her hair back over her shoulders.
Penelope took a bite of her burger and chewed as she thought of something to say. “I don’t know. Mom died,” her voice was sort of monotonous and she added a shrug. “But please don’t say sorry or anything. I’m a big girl. It’s been two years.”
Skylar laughed along when she spoke in an accent, shaking his head as he glanced down to grab a fry. He was focused on his food when Penelope started talking and when she mentioned her mom, Skylar looked up. “I had no idea,” He said softly.
He understood why she didn’t want to hear sorry. When a loved one dies, all you really hear is sorry. Skylar went through that with his brother and it got annoying after a while. “Yeah, I get it. Shit happens, we move on,” He shrugged.
You’re still beautiful.
I do believe that is your majesty that abounds.
Well, shucks.
You’re pretty. You should model with me.
Perception of looks is the singular track your mind posses.
Let me give you another demonstration.
You’re still beautiful.
It’s because I like you. I only pick on the ones I like.
My people put the mean in meanspirited. Do not get me started picking on you, Mr. Perry.
I dare you.
Shut up. You’re always so mean to me. I should just veto you.
It’s because I like you. I only pick on the ones I like.
That doesn’t count. I’m vetoing.
I’m vetoing your face.
Buuuuuuuuurn.
