I feel like the group doesn't want me anymore, because you left. I always tagged along with you, and I thought that if I did that enough I might become one of you guys. I try to smoke, I laugh at ironic things. I read intelligent books, like Franz Kafka. But since you left they haven't spoken to me so much as they've blown smoke in my face and laughed at my clothes.
Chelse normally tries to sneak me a beer, but she didn't tonight. I think she liked you, Nick.
But maybe it's not my place.
