That's him. He must've seen something himself that makes him powerfully adamant about me staying out of all this. That's his idea of protecting me, I imagine.

[She can almost feel the awkwardness radiating off of the boy sitting next to her, the way he hides his face, the way his ears heat. She makes note of it, but politely doesn't comment. Yet.]

What does that make you, then, if you're not like him?