It was taking a second, but the reason that Veronica'd been so familiar addressing this girl came crashing down on her like a wave.
Meg. You are the last good person here at Neptune High. I believe cartoon birds braided your hair this morning.
"Oh my God."
She actually took a step backward, not realizing she'd done it.
... that's not Alaska?
"Uhm. Global warming? That's a thing, right?" Veronica sighed and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I just... I don't normally talk to strangers in my cat slippers. And I'm realizing that the reason I did it is... you... you look EXACTLY like a friend I had in California." Veronica swallowed. Hard. She knew how nuts she sounded.
Old Italian ladies don't grieve like this. Boy, he must've really loved Meg.
"You don't have, like, a long-lost identical cousin named Meg, right?"