“That is the worst game in the world. Like I can see like nine thousand reasons why that would lead to fights and crying”
The rain slams against the ground with angry force, like it’s trying to drive millions of little holes into the dirt. I watch it, eyes glazed.
“It’s raining,” I say brilliantly.
Debbi snorts. “A bright future as a meteorologist lies ahead of you.”
Zeesy, who is hanging sideways off her bed to see out the window, cracks up.
I space back in. “You are both hilarious,” I say dryly.
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