“And when you were in ninth grade and forgot your lunch?” There was a desperate, determined zing in his eyes, like he wanted me to read between the lines. “I drove to Wendy’s to buy you some, skipping physics.” “What are you trying to say, that you were once nice to me, so now you have a free pass to be a douchebag?” I thundered. “No.” His eyes crinkled with disappointment. Whatever I was supposed to understand, I didn’t. “I’m saying I don’t hate you and never have. I just don’t want to be around you, and you should fucking respect that.”
