"Maybe, but if they're true..." he tips his head to the side considerately when Jake's fingers start a new downward descent, holding his gaze and giving him an annoyed look. "If I were really nineteen, I would be jailbait," he points out, wondering if Jake would have felt the same for a scrawny pendejo in his bed. "No more curls," he points out, even if his hair is curling, it's past his shoulders now, frizzing up in the climate. Even the hat barely controls them.

"If Beth were here, she could braid."