We met again. This time we sat stiffly in the Cineplex, keeping strictly to our seats. I crossed my arms. Brendon's fingers were barely on the armrest. I suspected we were focusing more on isolating our physical proximity than what was happening on screen.
He told me that he met his ex-neighbour and they went out for a movie together. He seemed quite enchanted by his unknown JC nymphet. I didn't see the point of his revelation or why we were going out together in the first place.
"Are you my friend, Gillian?" he asked. "I want to know this because I consider you as my friend."
"I suppose I can't say no then," I replied.
"Why do you hate me?"
"I don't hate you. I have no reasons to hate you."
The answer was both false and true.
"Then tell me you'll at least talk to me," he said. "I'm sure you know what I mean."