I just have to put this out there: I get serious points for not saying anything about the beaver or tooth brushing. Because I really want to, even if I don't go full-on 'Grease' sleepover Ipana commercial. But, I used to date a guy named Major, so pot and kettle and all that. Plus, the guy is trying so hard to not look at my chest I feel kinda bad for him.

"Maybe we should coordinate," I suggest with a nod Bucky's way. "You have your breakdown and I say soothing, ultimately unhelpful things, and then when you're done, we can do the opposite."