"That's a way to make money, a cussing jar. Fuck I hope you don't make us do back payments, I probably already owe you like.. fifty bucks or something," he reached over her and snatched a fry off of her plate. He had already chowed down on his own food.
"Yoink," and now he was snatching up hers. He wondered when they got this comfortable with each other. Or, rather, when he did. He was still highly aware he was four years shy of being twenty years her senior but he supposed his love for stupid shit made him seem that much more immature and thus he fit in with her crowd pretty good. God, she seemed older than him sometimes.
He drew his arm back from around her shoulder and furrowed his brow thoughtfully as a strange thought came to him.
"I've cussed a total of one hundred and six times in front of you since we've met," he said suddenly.