Celia shook her head, biting her lip. He was right, surviving definitely wasn't the same as doing well. If he'd talked to Charlie, that made two of them. She wagered that George had been nicer than her, but she wasn't about to apologize for that.
"They're idiots," she said, scrunching her nose. "They take turns being idiots." She paused, looking at him fully for the first time since she'd bumped him. "Where's your coat? George, it's cold out."
Not waiting for much of an answer, she undid her scarf and reached up to loop it around his neck. "For goodness sake..."