[dropcap]I[/dropcap]f you closed your eyes, all you could hear was laughter, clinking glasses, and slurping. People were eating oysters on every side of Jamie and me. The little girl at the bar next to me was playing on her phone, and eating my oysters instead of her plate of French fries.

She snagged another oyster from my platter, sucked it, then looked back down at her phone and cackled.

“Hey,” I said. “Are you laughing because you’re stealing my oysters?”

“No,” she held the phone up to me. “I’m laughing at my cousins’s pictures on Facebook. Just look at this goober my cousin is dating.”

It was a photo of an awkward boy with braces.

“That’s not very nice,” I said. “You may have an awkward phase one day yourself.”

“Who?” she laughed in my face, “me?”

She had a point.

“Hey,” I flagged the shucker down behind the bar. “Another dozen please, my oysters seem to keep disappearing,”

“Yeah,” the girl called out to the shucker. “And make them cajun style this time.”

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