“Hey, Bobby,” Garcia said under his breath.
“I don’t wanna talk about it, man.”
“The hat’s cool and all…but, you know: the hat’s not all there is to the matter, is it?””
“I am not even looking at you. Please shut up.”
Bobby doodled on his guitar.
“I feel like I should ask him which side he served in Mr. Lincoln’s infernal war.”
“Listen, he’s my friend. Leave it alone. Your friends are terrible, too.