“I don’t want…” I take a deep breath. “I don’t want it to feel like you’re doing me a favour. Like it’s fixing the bus or a ride home. I want it to be for both of us. Otherwise I’ll just feel pathetic.” Matt’s nostrils flare as a smile grows, his lips shaking with restraint—trying not to laugh. “Matt…” I whine. “No, I hear you.” His laughter bursts out. “If you want to return the favour, I guess I’d be fine with that,” he says, biting his lip. “If I must.” “I hate you.” “That’s not what you were saying thirty minutes ago,” he mutters.
