No. Denial was also a forest in Norway. Or something. Richie wasn't going to get into it this second, he had enough shit on his plate. His plate doth runneth over with shit. It was a thing.
"No, I suppose you aren't," Richie said, squinting a little. He didn't know for sure. No one knew for sure. But Dan sort of seemed like he'd be sticking around. Not that there was a type. But sometimes it felt like there was. He had no fucking idea what he was thinking about, so he pushed his cup toward Dan too, because why make that extra trip.
"I'll text you," he decided. He'd talk to Bev about it first, because she was his person when it came to all this shit. She'd know what to do. Or at least what to make Richie do -- which was really just giving Richie the opinion that he was interested in hearing.