I gritted my teeth, ignoring his statement. I owed him nothing. He tried again. "If you won't tell me about you, tell me about him." he said, sweeping his arm out to signal the graves to our left. I felt my breath catch, and my heart contract. " No. " I spat, pulling my knees to my chest. " He's dead. What else is there to tell you? He's none of your business anyway. I'M none of your business. Go home, go back to your friend and the blonde girl that undresses you with her eyes." I got up, and nearly crashed back down. My legs felt like paper. He shuffled closer, and then sat beside me, picking at a hole in his jeans. Not looking at me, he said, " My name's Freddie, by the way. Now we're acquainted fully. I see you've encountered Becky. " Then, his eyes widened slightly as something clicked. " Are you.. jealous?!" he said, stifling a laugh. "Tell her, she looks cuter with something in her mouth. " I replied, standing up once more and brushing leaves from my jeans. He looked at me, puzzled, for a moment, and then understood. "Duly noted. There are much nicer ways of saying you don't like her, you know. " " Who says I'm nice?" I shot back, half smiling. Then, I caught myself, and dropped the smile. " Just leave me alone. If you can't get to me, she will leave you alone. You can live normally then. Forget about me. "
With that, I ran through the graves and shot through the gate, pressing myself to the fence and catching my breath. Why won't this boy take a hint?