"You're laughing at me."
"Yes. Yes I am."
Roger glared ineffectively at the cheerfully grinning girl perched on the windowsill. "You should be worried."
"I'm not."
"You should be upset."
"Not really."
"You should be in tears, begging me to reassure you that I'm alright."
"Roger, you're fine," she said, still grinning and suppressing laughter.
"I'm in the fucking psych ward!" he exploded in frustration.
"Well," she said mildly, "hopefully now you've learned not to be sarcastic to the school counselor."
"I hate you."
"Love you too, you mental patient."