Perv
It's hard to pay attention when I'm so fucking pissed. All I know is that my mother keeps shaking her head and saying "that's terrible," then giving me dirty looks.
What now?
She tells me that I need to take better care of poor Riley. How is he ever going to pass his classes when he lives in a noisy dorm and fights break out every five minutes? She says it's dangerous and I should know better, and just what exactly was I thinking?
She hands Punk a cookie – even though we're eating dinner soon – and tells me I'd better do something.
Punk
Watching my perv sulk is so beautiful, I have to stop myself from touching him, or myself. I really, really want to do both. His pouty bottom lip and nearly silent grumbling make him almost irresistible.
I focus on his mom instead, trying to inhale her martini fumes to get a contact high.
Channeling Bambi, I blink slowly, then let my voice wobble a little before whispering, "Jimmy thinks I should toughen up."
When his mom clutches me to her chest, I grin, but he doesn't smile back at all.
Maybe I've gone too far?
I try to cheer him up.