“We didn’t buy any wrapping paper!” Trevor said. We were sitting on my bed, with the spatula laying on the white comforter between us.
“That’s okay, we can improvise.”
“What’s improvise?”
“We will find something that works just as well,” I snapped my fingers. "I know! I saw yesterday’s newspaper in the recycling bin. Let’s go grab that!”
His face screwed up like he had tasted a sour lemon. “Won’t newspaper be ugly.”
“Don’t worry, wrapping paper is all for show. It’s the act of unwrapping that causes a dopamine spike in the brain! That seeking and searching for what’s inside.”
I went out with him and pulled the green recycling bin out from under the registration desk. I had noticed earlier that Glenn, the security guard, usually brought a paper to read during his shift.
We lucked out
