"I don't think I am. But she says I have a terrible 'tendency to get distracted and lose track of time and forget what you're supposed to be doing, Connor, there are deadlines,'" he said, making air quotes with his fingers and mimicking her light, stern voice precisely, looking at that moment like the mischeivous little boy Carol accused him of being.
"That's always awesome. Brett--" He felt a pang at the name, even though it passed his lips easily enough. "My friend Brett always found the most random stuff to watch." He rubbed the back of his neck, concentrating for the moment on not getting pulled into grief or memories. "I'm a push over for Star Wars, though I was raised on Star Trek," he said. "And I confess, those monster movie marathons on the SyFy channel can fascinate me all day long, even though they are just B-rated silliness most of the time."
He listened to her chatter and smiled, reaching to hold open the door for her in automatic good manners even as he ran his other hand over his hair, pushing it back and still feeling weird to have it so short, but he hoped it would hold up to any scrutiny he might receive.