36
"Seesee and Lala?" Edward laughs, his hand running through his messy mane of copper-blonde hair. Now that the ice has been broken, we've been sitting at our table for two hours, talking about anything and everything. "You call each other after Teletubbies?"
"Shut up," I snort, hurling a fingerful of dead scone remains at him. "We were little; she couldn't say 'Bella' and I couldn't pronounce 'Tansie,' which is what everybody in our families has been calling her since, well, forever."
He chuckles as he picks pastry bits off of his shirt before flicking them back at me.
"Hey, now, Lala, show some respect for the dead."