“I’m sure there are plenty of girls who would appreciate your kindness,” I blurt, “girls who aren’t dumb, so I suggest you go offer it to them. After all, I’m not special.”
He stares at me for a moment, then scoffs. The expression on his face is almost amused, like he just watched a toddler throw a tantrum.
“What’s with the attitude?” he asks.
“Attitude?” I shake my head. “You really think I’ve got an attitude?”
“I think you’re angry and yeah, you should be,” he shrugs. “But you’re directing it at the wrong person.”
My eye twitches. “You called me dumb last night.”
His eyebrows lift. “I did?” Oh, Goddess. I really dislike him. “I remember asking if you’re dumb, not saying you’re dumb. Two different things, glasses.”
[He has a point]
“Oakie,” I say through clenched teeth, “I swear
