“Oh, well, people don’t like me, mostly. I’m … used to that. I’m not /nice/. I don’t meet their expectations.” She slants a glance at him, green-eyed and curious. “I never had a Scott. You’re lucky. Almost everyone I know has wanted me to be someone different.”
Stiles makes a little snorting noise in the back of his throat. “I know I’m lucky to have Scott, but…what the heck do you mean, you aren’t nice. Your cat is nice, animals don’t stay nice if their owners aren’t nice. Plus, you were very generous with your book and your ice pack, you could have just taken Helios and left. What, do you kick puppies, or…”
“Nice and good aren’t the same.” Summer’s back to twisting her hands together, thumb rubbing in the palm of the other over and over like smoothing out something. “I have a pretty sharp tongue, and I don’t put up with stupid very well. At all. I correct people and I know too much — I’m just not very nice.” She dragged in a long breath. “I don’t — do the little empty social things.”