“I would like an explanation,” she says. “I’m sorry,” I say. “That isn’t an explanation. Is it that you just don’t like me?” “No, I like you,” I say. “You couldn’t possibly like me if you would treat me like that.” She examines my face. Her eyes dart from my eyes to my mouth and back. “I like you,” I say again. She crosses her arms. “Then what’s your problem?”
