Sam's Plan: In Action (well, almost)

The doorbell didn’t ring. Sam waltzed through the door like she always used too.
“Hey,” she said, and flopped down on the couch.
“Okay, plan,” I reminded her, flopping down next to her. We both turned , brought our feet up, and sat cross-legged on the couch, facing each other.
“Right. Well, I was thinking, maybe Jess doesn’t know you miss him too. Or maybe he’s just shy. Either way, I think we should give him reassurance, a sign.”
“And what exactly is it you had in mind?”
“Well, your soda. You guys always had that silly debate, right? So he would remember it. And if someone, say, left one for him, he would think of you.”
“So you’re saying a ding-dong-ditch thing. We leave an orange Hansens soda, ring the doorbell, then leave?”
“By george, I think she’s got it”
“That’s crazy. There’s really no point.”
“You know you want to.”
“Why yes I do.”
“So lets go.”
“Um, ok, but by the way, was that really a necessary moment to quote My Fair Lady?”
“Every moment is a necessary moment to quote My Fair Lady”

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