"There is an intimacy that comes from sharing cartons of Chinese food with someone," she retorted, sitting on the couch. "But that's fine. We won't do it."
"No, no," she lamented, lying back against the arm of the couch. "I understand. You don't want to be friends."
"I sit here, alone and without company," she cried, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. "Without a friend in the world."
She sat up slightly. Strangely, she didn't lean up against him like she normally did, instead seeming to maintain about a half-foot of distance between them. "We're good."
