“Why do you want to know? Planning on coming over to watch 10 Things I Hate About You and touch toes underneath the blanket?” He sneers at me. “I don’t want hand, foot, and mouth disease.” My jaw drops in disbelief. “You’re saying you look like that naturally? How about we go on that walk back to Principal Fifth-Divorce, and we can see about giving you shingles instead.” “Please,” he scoffs. “I’d probably catch chlamydia just by standing next to you.”
