1

“You’re an a*s,” said Sanderson.

 

I could not disagree with him.

 

“Why?” he began. “Why do you not reply my texts? Are you that busy?” I simply stared at him silently. “Well,” I tried to make up a hasty excuse but my supply of flimsy explanations seemed to have become exhausted over time. “Uh…I’m sorry.” Well great, a meek apology escaping from my weak lips was all I could muster.

 

“…You’re really selfish y’know that? How long does it take to reply my messages anyway? I…forget it.” Hands raised up, Sanderson shook his head and brought them back down, appearing defeated. “How was your day?”

 

I broke into a wry smile. It was not the first time these exchanges happened to me after all. I constantly found myself in similar confrontations regarding my poor texting skills. At least, that was what I claimed it to be, as compared to accusations about my terrible selfishness. “Aye, same old same old,” I sighed and rested my chin upon my hands.

 

Sanderson shot me a dark look and said, “You always say that,” He paused and then looked at me again. This time, he looked more hesitant about broaching a new topic. “Actually I did want to ask you about something…”

 

I lifted up my head lazily. “Ask away…” Perhaps I could make it up by being a much better physical communicator which would make up for my incompetent texting persona.

 

“Kassandra says you hate men,” he said. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me so much?”

 

I froze but managed to reclaim my composure quickly. “And you believe her?” A small burst of laughter escaped my lips. It was not the first time such accusations were thrown in my way. Sanderson merely shrugged. “The way I see it, you just dislike people in general.” Only this time, I laughed even louder, which caused some alarmed passers-by to look in our direction. Sanderson was not terribly off-the-mark �" I did use to think I was a complete misandrist. Yet, he was not completely right too because I did like him.