“Her parents are very frustrating to her,” said Danny. “But I think if procrastination bordering on laziness is the worst thing wrong with your parents, you’re doing pretty well.”

“I don’t actually care about Pat’s parents, Danny,” said Laurette. “Boys are supposed to be constant horndogs. And mythological gods are supposed to be even worse.”

“Some of them are,” said Danny. “Maybe most of them.”

“Maybe you are, too, if you find girls you think are attractive.” She was crying again.

“What is this?” asked Danny. “We’re friends. You’re attractive. And funny and nice and I like you fine.”

“But you don’t want me.”

“Is that the only measure of … anything?” asked Danny. “And you need to get your homework done so I’m leaving.”

“Please don’t,” said Laurette. “Please just … can’t you just kiss me and see if you like it?”

“I’d like it just fine. I’d like it a lot. That’s why I’m not going to do it.”

“You can’t possibly be Christian,” said Laurette. “Why can’t you ever do something because it’s fun?”

“I do things for fun all the time,” said Danny. “But I don’t like hurting people.”

“Pat doesn’t own you! You’re not married.”

“Actually, I lied. I do like hurting people. I spent my whole childhood thinking up malicious pranks and playing them. Really nasty stuff. Involving poo and pain and bad smells and minor injuries. Plus a lot of humiliation. But that’s because I detested everyone in my family, and they detested me back. And my pranks were funny. There’s nothing funny about kissing you when I don’t mean it and when I know you’d talk about it and it would hurt Pat and it would also hurt Xena and Sin because I didn’t do anything with them.”

“What if I didn’t talk about it?” asked Laurette.

“I’m going now,” said Danny.

“You said that before, and yet you’re still here.” She got up from her chair and put her arms around him and leaned her head on his chest. “You really are physically fit, you know. Good health is so attractive.”

“Now you’re just being idiotic,” said Danny.

“And you’re still here,” said Laurette. She slid a hand down his back, under the waistband of his pants.

“All that’s down there is my butt,” said Danny. “You have one, too.”

She used her other hand to grab his wrist and plant his hand on her backside. “That’s a butt,” she said, “and you don’t have one. That’s what I’m looking for. To see what holds your pants up.”

This had gone far enough. Because it was working exactly as she intended and he just didn’t understand why she was doing this. It seemed like a game among the girls, but they also seemed to mean it.