“Excuse me?” Aline snapped.
“No,” Duda agreed. She jumped down and knelt beside Aline, their shoulders touching. “You need someone to hand you the right tool. And to tell you that your bun is crooked.” aline novak e duda
The end. Or rather, the beginning.
Then the door to the break room swung open. “Excuse me
“You’re not as annoying as you look,” Aline said, as they stood by the elevator. “Excuse me?” Aline snapped. “No
“No,” Aline replied, surprising herself. “We’re just calibrated differently.”
And every now and then, when the world got too loud, Aline would look at Duda—chaotic, brilliant, storm-eyed Duda—and think: This is the only variable that matters.
