God bless America

“God bless America, Dana Waelde,” I say, emphasizing the silent e her in last name; changing the pronunciation from Walldee to Wayalldee. She hates it when I purposely mispronounce her last name. I honestly don’t know why.

She just looks at me and frowns like she feels sorry for me; sorry for the little, immature boy that she thinks I am. I walk away; stammer away drunkly, feeling very proud of myself, but completely empty on the insides.

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