"I-I guess," I stutter, fumbling with the book and adjusting my glasses at the same time. Oh my gods this is so embarrassing. I avoid eye contact as i feel my face begin to warm up. I hold the book up higher and pretend to be studying a symbol on the page. "What's up?" I inwardly cringe at my mortal formality. "What do you wish to speak about?" I say slightly louder.
How can I be king of the world? Because I am king of rubbish. And rubbish is what the world is made of. — Kate DiCamillo, The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane