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"This isn't really the place to have this conversation, Rosalie. Maybe we can wait till we get to my car?" He raised an eyebrow as he looked around at the crowds of people walking beside us. "But if you want to throw a tantrum, I’d wait until then..."
"Do you think that I'm still twelve years old or seventeen years old? I'm twenty-two now. I'm a woman, and you can't talk to me like I'm a little kid. I'm not going to stand for that. And just because I'm staying with you and Foster doesn't mean that—” I was angry, and I wasn’t going to shy away from letting him know how I felt.
"It's fine." He held his hands up. "I was just teasing you, Rosalie. That's what friends do."
"I didn't realize we were friends," I said sarcastically.
"Well, true. You have been avoiding me for a long time, but..." He shrugged. I stared into his eyes, and he stared back into mine. "Are we going to talk about it?" he asked softly.
"Talk about what?" I could feel my heart racing.
"Why you stopped talking to me?"
"So you did know I stopped talking to you!" I knew he had to have known.
"I mean, it was kind of obvious, don't you think? You were literally around all the time, and then you just disappeared off the face of the earth." He shrugged. "I'm just curious as to why."
"Because..." I said as I ran my hands through my long dark hair.
"If you don't know, then..." He stared at me for a few more seconds wordlessly. He rubbed his forehead and then sighed. "Come on, we’re close to the car now.."
"That's it? That's the only conversation we're going to have?"
"I mean, you didn't seem to want to say anything else about it." He licked his lips. "And your stomach is growling, so you're hungry. Let's get out of here, go and get you something to eat, then we can go back to the apartment. Foster said that you can sleep in his room while he's away, but don't get used to it because you will be on the couch."
"Wow. How generous of him. You'd think he'd let me sleep in his room the whole time."
"Why?" Oliver shook his head. "It's not like you're his mom or his girlfriend. You're his sister."
"Yeah, I'm his baby sister. His one and only baby sister. He should be treating me like a princess, like a queen, like royalty."
"Um, I think you need to find yourself a boyfriend if that's what you're looking for, Rosalie."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I stared at Oliver, scorn on my face.
"I'm just saying that if you want someone to treat you like a princess, that should be your man or your dad. And you decided you don't want to live at home with your dad, so you're living with Foster and me. And neither one of us is going to treat you like—”
"I know, and it's fine. You're both jackasses."
"Hey." He held his hands up. "What's with the animosity? I took off work so I could come pick you up."
"And I appreciate it, though I did tell you I could catch a taxi."
"With what money, Rosalie?"
I chewed on my lower lip. "I'm not completely broke, you know. I have some money."
"So you have enough money to just blow seventy-five dollars for nothing?"
"Well no, but—”
"But nothing. Come on. Do you like Mexican food?"
"Yeah, who doesn't?"
"Lots of people don't, but I know a cool little Tacqueria I can take you to. And—”
"Yeah?" I asked him.
