"One point to me," Chris says after maybe five minutes, when both of their smokes are almost down to filter. It, to his utter lack of surprise, is the right thing to say to get Zach's attention; he looks up immediately, eyes wild with the clear need to know what point he lost and how. Chris grins. "You're totally into it. We're," and he deepens his voice here, imitating this hilarious conversation they had with a fan about Kirk and Spock on the first press tour, "two sides of the same coin."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Zach says. Then he pauses, grins, and amends, "No, okay, I mean I do about the coin thing, that's still funny -- but I'm not reading the book, Chris. I'm reading your notes. They're very enlightening. I feel like I really understand this text on a whole new level."
"What," Chris starts, and then, belatedly, actually remembers the content of some of those notations. He's so used to them being there that he doesn't see them when he rereads anymore, but most of them were made the first time he read the novel, when he was like twenty years old and stoned out of his mind. "Oh, god-- "
"Kundera writes, 'When the strong were too weak to hurt the weak, the weak had to be strong enough to leave,' and you,” Zach stops, cackles, holds the book out of Chris's reach when Chris grabs for it, "you added the insightful, 'DEEP! So true.' With three underlines, which I think really drives home how deep and true it is, don't you?"
A funny reason in and of itself to read this, but here's another that I find particularly wonderful, if a bit conceptually heartbreaking.
Somewhere in the back of Chris's mind, the lighting shifts, and there's a familiar, understated little lurch in his chest as the new sight-lines illuminate something that's been lurking in his periphery for years. The thing is, Chris is maybe a little bit in love with Zach. He feels pretty stupid about it, honestly. He probably should have noticed before.