"A date?" I mirror his words, unable to believe I heard him right. Brody continues driving, his eyes firmly fixed on the road ahead of him. I want him to stop and turn around, explain his words further but he doesn't. My body feels exhausted from the humiliation and all I want to do is go home, curl up into a ball and sleep.
"Brody, you don't have to take me on a date," I mumble, feeling extremely awkward.
What do you do when the only boy who speaks to you watches as you're publicly humiliated and then offers to take you on a sympathy date?
"I know I don't have to, I want to." Brody explains, his eyes fixed on the road ahead of him.
"You really don't have to, I'm fine." I push him, my voice wobbling. I sniffle and tug at my hair desperately, wishing I hadn't thrown away my hair tie. I feel so embarrassed thinking Clayton might have found me slightly attractive.
People like Clayton and Brody find people like Beatrice attractive, not me.