He threw his head back and laughed.
“It wasn’t that funny,” I said. I hadn’t even intended it to be funny.
“It wasn’t,” he said. “It’s true. It’s just, I don’t know, the way you said it.”
“How charming.”
He stopped laughing, but he was smiling. “You’re cynical,” he said.
“You’re eccentric.”
“No,” he said, “I didn’t think you were cynical at first. But you are; I’m surprised.” He shook his head. “Your parents are really accountants?”
“Well, my dad manages a bank now.”
“Which bank?”
“Fifth Third.”
“You’d think they’d have called it something easier to pronounce.”
“You’d think.”
“Well.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “For a teenage girl, you’re not bad. I have to give you that much.”
“Gee, thanks,” I said sarcastically.
“Well, you could be worse.”
“Everything could be worse,” I said.
“A-HA!” He snapped his fingers in my face. “See, I told you. Cynical.”
“That’s not cynicism, that’s honesty,” I said.
“Honesty?” He laughed a scoff, then grew serious. “Okay, Alice, tell me something true.”
“Oh, God,” I said. “Do not, do not Alice-Ayres me.”
Labels: january brings few faces
