paramour.

the day we met.

"Stop staring at me like that. I've had enough people look at me like that today and you're the first to practically drool. Fucking Neanderthal."

"Wow? Conceited much?"

"Not conceited, I'm annoyed."

"Annoyed by what? Me looking at you --- wondering who you are because clearly you're a new kid here and I've never seen you in my entire life. If that makes me a Neanderthal for being mildly curious about your existence, so be it. Hell, if it makes you feel any better, I'll start whacking all the other guys on the head with a giant tree limb just to assert my testosterone."

"No, I'm annoyed because all I want to do is blend in, become like a fly on the wallpaper. Why is that so hard to do around here?"

"Because you're beautiful. Beautiful people don't get the liberty to be flies like the rest of us ugly people."

"Kind, but a lame attempt at flirting. I'm not interested."

"Did I ask you if you were? You are really conceited, you know that? I made a general statement and you took it as me trying to get into your pants."

"Please. I'm just as much conceited as you are ugly."

"Wait --- was that a compliment?"

"Don't flatter yourself. This isn't some teen comedy where I end up falling in love with you because we had some friendly banter in the principal's office. We're both here for two entirely different reasons. I'm a good girl, or so I'd like my dad to think. You --- well, you're kind of a piece of shit, aren't you? Do you spend every lunch break in here? Why am I asking? Of course you do. This is what you're good at --- making trouble for no reason because that's the only way you validate your existence. I, on the other hand, need to keep my grades up and I will do so by staying away from people like you."

"I'm sure that's what you'd like to think --- that you're a good girl. I know my kind, and you most certainly belong in here, right here beside me."

"Well, too bad. I'm not going to. As a matter of fact, I am willing to bet that I'll be in here getting awards of excellence while you sit in this chair, moping over your pathetic existence, tallying up another detention."

"How much are you willing to bet?"

"Bad choice of words..."

Veronica, you can come in now.

"Well, that's my cue. Also, please don't take this as a sign to come up to me in the hallways at any particular time. I don't know you, and I don't want to."

"Cary."

"That's a stupid name for a guy."

"What kind of name is Veronica? Where's Archie? Jughead? Betty? You're missing your crew."

"Whatever."