She pulled her hair back, laying out the tarp that they had slept under. * * * He beamed, kissing her cheek. "Excellent. Thank you."
She glanced over at him. "What?" * * * They got to the deep sea exhibit, the lights painting the room a deep blue. Arlo pushed up his glasses nervously.
She paused, leaning back slightly. "Was it, though?" * * * "Why would I trust you? You're in a cult."
She nodded thoughtfully. "If you say so." * * * "It's a little early in the relationship, don't you think?"
"Well, excuse me for thinking otherwise," she threw back sharply. "This kind of thing has happened a lot." * * * "Oh, I get it. 'Never too early for a cult talk.'"
She shook her head, focusing on the paint. "You seem frustrated with me thinking that you could possibly have another motive. I'm just saying." * * * "Never."
She looked back at him, rubbing the back of her neck. Eventually, she sighed. "I'm... I'm sorry." * * * He looked dismayed. "None?!"
