“That's the second reporter to call me 'boyish.'" "Boyish is nice," Dee offers. He tips his head towards her. "I'm nineteen. I'm not boyish." "It's your hair," I tell him without glancing up from the magazine, and Dee laughs. "My hair?" he asks, incredulous. "What's wrong with my hair?" "Nothing. But you had it that way when you were younger, right? During the Finch Four years?" He frowns. "Yeah, I guess. I don't know." "Yeah," Dee says. "You did. Same haircut. Kind of almost shaggy." "Shaggy?" "Yeah." I gesture near his ear. "It sort of starts to curl right here. The look is a little..." Dee and I both study his face for a moment. "...boyish," Dee decides. We both giggle, and Matt's eyes widen as if we've betrayed him. "Girls are mean! I'm bailing out of this bus at the next rest stop." "Unlikely," I tell him.” HumorBoyishDeeLilah MontgomeryMatt FinchReagan O Neill Book:Open Road Summer Source: Open Road Summer
“That dress is couture," the stylist calls nervously before I can answer. The poor woman's eyes display sheer horror, like she's watching peanut salt fall onto the dress in slow motion. "Oh no," Dee says sarcastically. "Well, good thing I didn't eat it.” HumorDeeLilah MontgomeryReagan O Neill Book:Open Road Summer Source: Open Road Summer