"Pfffffft, please, who uses the 'Grams these days?" Eva scoffs, as if she wasn't just refreshing her feeds seconds before boot-scooting over here. "IG died with the fidget spinner, it's all metaphysics and Twitter-fridges now."

She pauses, lips pressed together, for like a full half a second. Look, it's definitely fun to throw yourself down five flights of stairs for ostensibly no reason, but you know what else is fun? Responsible friending.

"You look heckin' baked chief. You need someone to pull you out the oven?" A coherent sentence, for sure.