“You really think so?”
Summer stilled, parsing that sentence, that expression, over and over again. “I … hadn’t thought that far,” she said finally. “That’s not how it works for me. I keep waiting for this to turn out to be a joke, actually. It wouldn’t be the first time.” She had to stop talking, take a deep breath, try to still the pounding of her pulse. “I’m … not the sort of person someone like you dates.”
Isaac frowned, eyebrows knitting together. “What is ‘someone like me’ then?” he asked, propping himself up and watching her carefully. “What do you think I am?” he asked in confusion, the wheels in his head turning. He looked away from her and frowned deeper, sighing a little and running his fingers through his hair.
Quietly, “Athletic. Good-looking. Popular. Smart.” She was still sitting on his legs, and now she rolled off to lay curled on her side, in case he wanted to leave. In case she drove him away. “You’re probably three deep in girls at school, and you’re here because you think you’ll get some prestige, maybe, out of having been with a college girl. Or maybe you think I can teach you something. About sex, I mean.” The nakedness of her body didn’t bother her, but she shivered slightly from the nakedness of her soul. “I don’t know what you think I am.”