When You Mess with the Bull, You Get the Horns

"You're looking at me like that," the female teen said, not even looking at the man behind her. Her fingers brushing across a psychology book on the man's desk.

"Like what?" the man calmly questioned the teen's statement, reading her body language like he would read the book she was eyeing.

"Like that," she replied looking over at him. "Like I'm your patient, a client, or whatever the hell you call someone who pays you for your time these days," she answered.