"Rosalie is your friend too, isn't she? She's studying alone in a different city—it's not easy for her. Shouldn't we look out for her? And you're hung up over one ticket?"
"Not easy?" I echoed softly, my chest hollow with disbelief. "Do you think I have it easy? Seven or eight hours standing on a packed train—that's nothing to you?"
"So what if it's a standing ticket? Just a little hardship and you're already complaining? When did you become so spoiled?" His voice was laced with disappointment now.
"I thought you were kind and sensible. Turns out you're vain. Just because you lost a business-class seat, you think it's embarrassing? Is that why you're making such a fuss?"
Vain?
The word stabbed into me like a cold blade.
He thought I was throwing a tantrum over a business-class seat. He had no idea it wasn't about the seat. It was never about the seat!
All I wanted was to go home with him, side by side, sharing the journey.
If I wanted, one word from me and my father could buy the entire train outright. But that wasn't the point.
Now, I had no desire to explain. I only wanted to watch how far he and his delicate little "friend" could take this act.
I stayed silent for a few seconds.