Charlie looked at the side of the plane.
"Paint's scratched," he muttered to himself.
"Really?" Sibby groaned. "The engine was close to burning out the next time you fly, and you care about a chip in the paint?"
Charlie gave a start. "Sorry, I- I didn't realize you were in here. Didn't mean to criticize."
She walked over. "You know what? That's kind of bright there. I'm not busy today, I'll go get a can of the paint over there."
"You really don't have to," Charlie insisted.
"No, you actually had a good point. Don't take this the wrong way."