"Zoe," I yelled her name when I came to her by herself in the garden—even though I don't agree with the choice that she made, I don't have the right to complain about the things that she decided to do because I'm too bored to talk to her at the moment even though I don't like the option that she made.
I have no bearing whatsoever on her life.
When she noticed that I was sitting in front of her, she flashed a grin and murmured, "Hey, Celeste," as she gulped orange juice. I get the impression that she isn't doing well because the look in her eyes says it all, and I have no idea what might be causing her to be in such pain.
"What exactly is going on?" she just chuckled as if it were irrelevant when I asked her about it. "I'm not entirely sure . . . When I should be minding my own business
