Travis: What’s up?
Vic: Nothing. I’ve spent all weekend thinking about what’s up. I just want two seconds to not think about that. I just want to think about shellfish.
Travis: This is our thing, right? This is what we do. We take turns forcing the other person to talk, so rip the scab. Just do it.
Vic: Remember when we used to go out at night back when the world was open? And before you’d head out, you’d say to your friends, text me when you get home, just so you’d know all your people were good. You’d know they’d made it home safe and sound, right? That’s like sacred friend stuff, like humans evolving beyond beast stuff. That is consideration and buddy love you even when you’re too drunk to walk straight.
Travis: Oh my god, remember how hammered you were at Miller’s birthday last year?
Vic: But she was home, Travis. Breonna Taylor was home. She could have texted her best friend, ‘home, xo,’ and that friend would have gone to bed thinking, ‘Great, everyone’s home safe and sound,’ and then she was killed in the middle of the night in her home in her pajamas.
Travis: Vic, I’m sorry.
Vic: I just don’t want to think about any of it, you know. Just one day, Travis. Tomorrow I will pick it all back up again, I promise, but today I just want to put my feelings in the freezer ‘cause I’m spent and I just need one day. I will fight all future battles and I will care as much as I do now, but I’m exhausted. And I just need a day.
