“I’ve never seen one that big before,” Eliot said, trying to keep his voice even.
When he’d gotten there to pick Aimee up for school, she’d still been in the bathroom, poking at her nose despondently.
He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing when she jumped and then turned around to glare at him.
“You’re an asshole,” she said, pushing past him.
“Oh, come on, I was joking,” he said, following her down the hallway to her room, where she was shoving her books into her backpack. He really had been joking; he might not have even noticed if she’d been ready to go when he got there.
“Prom is tomorrow, Eliot!” Aimee said, throwing up her hands, not sure if she was more annoyed by him, the pimple, or the fact that apparently she did care about a stupid dance after all.