I walked back over and slid into my seat across from her. The chair scraped quietly against the floor.
She looked up at me.
For a split second, I thought she might ask where I'd gone. Or why my face felt a little tighter than before. But she didn't. She just looked… tired. Distant.
"So," I began, resting my elbows lightly on the table. "How's life?"
"Good," she said simply, taking another bite. "How about you?"
"Good," I repeated, then shrugged. "Though it could've been better these last few days. The weather's just… killing me."
She huffed a little. Not quite a laugh.
"Yeah, it's cold," she said. "This New Year's Eve is gonna suck."
I tilted my head. "You don't like the cold?"
"Who likes the cold?" she shot back.
That earned a faint smile out of me. I picked up my fork again.
"Yeah," I said. "You're right."
We ate in silence for a bit.
