After what seemed like hours of driving around, he finally stopped the car and asked, “What are you so mad about?”
“I’m not mad. I’m just tired.” She didn’t even look at him. Dismissively she looked straight ahead. It was the perfect con, if only she could make anything out of the darkness that she was absorbedly staring at.
He joined her, pretending to keenly observe the established nothing and continued to grill her, “Ok, then what are you so TIRED of?
“I already told you, it’s nothing.”
“Hah! I’m calling THAT bluff. Tell me, what is this really about? You can tell me. You don’t really like her, do you?”
“I have nothing to say about her. I have nothing to say about whatever you have with her. I have nothing!”
“Fine!” He started driving and said nothing until they’re in front of her house’s gate. “Call me when you’re ready to say something.”
She didn’t say a word. Hurriedly, she got out of the car and didn’t even look back. That was what I wanted to say. I have nothing.
