“You’re thinking of the wrong person,” I said, with a note of irritation in my voice.
Hm.
I don’t think this is going to work, even if we did recently establish that you look visibly different now.
“No, I’m almost positive. You were that girl that got shoved in that rank locker with all that stuff they carted away in biohazard bags. The girl who went so mental they had to have a group of cops and paramedics haul you away for the first month of the semester.”
Yeah, rub it in, why don’tcha.
“Enough!” I shouted, suprised at my own temper.
Yeah, that ain’t gonna dissuade her from thinking you’re that girl.
The group of teenagers who were having drinks by the bathroom turned to look at us.
Aaand you’ve drawn more attention. Great!
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