“Geeeez! I didn’t know you could draw like that!” Ben hunched over me to get a closer look. “Holy shit, Maple, how long’ve you been able to draw that good?”

“You mean well.”

“What?”

“Never mind. I’ve drawn like this for forever, not that you care,” I glanced up at him with my heavily-eyelinered eyes. He was staring at my chest. Of course, he only noticed me because I was wearing a shirt lower than I usually did.

That idiotic tank top was a last resort; it was the only thing in my closet that I hadn’t already worn 3 times that month. After all, when you wear only black clothes, you usually don’t have a big selection to buy from.

“Oh well,” he shrugged, smirking at his pun. “Aren’t I so punny?” He snickered again.

I stared up at his baby blue eyes, and said with all too much honestly, “No.”

He staggered backward, as if shot, holding his hand to his heart. “That hurt, Maple, that hurt real bad,” and then he turned away and started talking to a blonde Barbie.

“Jocks,” I muttered.