Types

‘So…?’ I ask as soon as both car doors slam shut. I glance over my shoulder, and he’s already disappeared inside the house.

‘He’s not really your type,’ she says.

I sigh. ‘Yeah. Wait. I have a type?’ I pause. ‘Oh. Well, pretty boys.’ She nods. ‘But…the last guy I dated wasn’t pretty.’

She shoots me a sidelong gaze.

‘Okay, maybe,’ I pause. ‘Maybe? Was he pretty? I thought he was cute, but I’m not sure anyone else did.’

‘He was very pretty,’ she says.

‘Oh.’

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