“What? We’re not dating. We’re just friends.” Technically not a lie. “Does Carter know you’re friends?” “Uh, yeah. We live in the same building. He knows.” Still not a lie. “Okay, let me rephrase my question. Does Carter know you’re watching movies at night with his little sister and making her ice cream sundaes?” I cross my arms and look away, grumbling, “Shut up.”
