“Okay, I’ll walk you home.” I swept my books into my bag and slung it over my shoulder. Tempest was slower to pack up. “Who said I was going home?” I grabbed the door and held it open for her. “Ah, trying to make me jealous with your hot date?” “If you count a date with a baby donkey, hot, then sure. I can see how you might find yourself competing against farm animals for dates.”
