“I don’t smoke.” My eyes shoot upward, locking on his. What? He was smoking up on the cliff; that’s how I knew he was there in the first place. We stare at each other. His expression is disinterested as always, but behind his eyes something dark glitters. A challenge. Like he’s silently goading me to dispute his lie. I tilt my chin up and he cocks an eyebrow, as if to say, go on. I dare you.
