"He wants to know if you like blue."
He knew it was a stupid question.
He knew that he was no Mr. Perfect. He knew that he was not the ideal guy. He had long accepted that girls would not be interested in someone who was raised in a junkyard and often covered head-to-toe in oil grease.
That didn't stop him from trying anyway.
Maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was too hopeful of him to think that some girl out there might accept him, regardless of the fact that he was not the strongest, brightest, or funniest guy around.
When he saw her for the first time (oh my gosh, so freaking beautiful), he immediately realized that he had no chance with her. Girls with her looks weren't supposed to fall for guys like him. Trying to convince himself otherwise would just lead to a heartbreak.
But when she looked at him, she really looked at him. In this girl's eyes, he was someone who mattered.
And when she smiled (and oh my gosh, that smile), Jay suddenly felt like he was doing spinjitzu again for the first time.
"It's my favorite color."