““Do you really like Quincy or are you just saying that?" I asked. Dylan held up his index finger and finished swallowing his toast. He looked alarmed by my question. "Quincy is fine. Why would I mind Quincy?" "I don't know. I mean, don't you have a preference as to where we live?" Dylan shook his head. "Not really. As long as I'm living with you, I could care less. I'd live in a closet with you for Christ's sake.””
