DROP NINE
“He called me a tool!” Pickle said, delighted. She was in the passenger seat, and was turned back to chat with Cherry. Hector had gone back inside to grab something he forgot.
“Isn’t that usually a bad thing to call someone?” Cherry frowned.
“Not in this context!” Pickle replied.
Cherry snorted. “Sure, whatever, girlfriend.”
Hector came back, opened the door, and started the car.
Cherry rapped on the seat and popped her lips. “Hey, can we get ice cream on the way?”
Hector sighed. “Ugh, fine. I’m stopping at the periptero for five minutes, that’s it. No overthinking it. Just pick one and eat it. And don’t make a mess in the car.”
Cherry whispered at Pickle, “So bossy,” but it was still loud enough in the confines of the pickup truck.
“I can hear you, you know.”
“I know,
