I.
“You don’t really think I’m going in there, do you?”
“Come on,” I say, tugging at his sleeve. “It’s going to be fun”
“It’ll be stupid, is what it’ll be,” Bill answers. “Let’s just go home.”
I cock an eyebrow. “…are you actually afraid to go inside?”
He protests a little too quickly: “I’m not afraid. It’s just an old house.”
“If it’s just an old house,” I say, taking both his hands and pulling him toward the front door, “then it doesn’t matter if we go inside, does it?”
I win, like I always do. We approach the house.
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