(ALICE)
A sly look enters his eyes, and he edges even closer to me. "Should you really be admitting that to me? I thought women were supposed to hide things like that and play coy."
I glare at him. "I'm not flirting with you."
"You just said I'm good-looking," he argues. "How am I supposed to take that?"
"Take it as a compliment, and then move a couple of feet away from me," I suggest.
He makes a face. "I've been told I'm handsome before, but never like this. Do you think I have cooties or something? Why can't I sit with you?"
"Because I'm just about to get my freedom," I tell him severely. "I don't want to have a heart attack and die before I've even enjoyed one minute of it. You're making my heart beat funny. So, either you slide over, or I get up and leave."
"You're not going to die of a heart attack just because you think I'm hot," Darian scoffs, looking a little smug.
"I never said you were hot," I point out. "What I said is that you're good-looking. You're pretty."
