LILLY: So how did it go?
TOMMY: How did what go?
LILLY: Your date.
TOMMY: What date?
LILLY: Oh, don’t be coy.
TOMMY: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
LILLY: I know you had a date with that new girl, Kirstie.
LILLY: See? You care.
TOMMY: It wasn’t a date. She came over to my house.
LILLY: To “study”?
TOMMY: Why do you care?
LILLY: I’m just curious.
LILLY: Because I like to keep tabs.
TOMMY: Is that supposed to not creep me out?
TOMMY: Good job, then.
LILLY: So how did it go?
TOMMY: I’m not going to tell you.
LILLY: That badly, huh?
TOMMY: How does that mean it was bad?
LILLY: If it went well, you would gloat.
TOMMY: I don’t gloat.
LILLY: You would, when it comes to me.
TOMMY: When have I ever gloated at you?
LILLY: That little league game when we were ten.
LILLY: There have been other times since, but that’s the one I remember because it hurt the most. See? Right there, I said that it hurt me and that made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, didn’t it? You gloat. And you’d have gloated if she’d gone for you, too.
TOMMY: Why do you hate me so much?
LILLY: I don’t.
TOMMY: You’ve always hated me.
LILLY: You’ve always hated me.
TOMMY: Because you were always a jerk to me.
LILLY: Because you were always a jerk to me. Is this one of those things where the boy picks on the girl because he actually, secretly likes her?
TOMMY: Boys don’t do that.
LILLY: Boys totally do that.
TOMMY: Jerks do that. I don’t.
LILLY: So you do genuinely hate me.
TOMMY: You’ve never treated me with anything but contempt.
LILLY: You started it!
TOMMY: Do you…
TOMMY: Do you, like, like me or something?
LILLY: … No.
TOMMY: Then why are you doing this? If it’s not ‘cause you like me, and it’s not ‘cause you hate me.
LILLY: I never said I didn’t hate you.
TOMMY: Oh. OK, good.
LILLY: I said you hated me. Don’t you?
TOMMY: You annoy me.
LILLY: No. Nuh-unh, I’m not buying that. We have known each other too long, we have been through too much, I refuse to believe that your feelings for me are less than pure, unadulterated rage.
TOMMY: I’m so sorry to disappoint you, really.
LILLY: See? Sarcasm. Not something we get every day from Tommy Ingle. It must be hate. Say you hate me.
TOMMY: Why is this so important to you?
LILLY: Wow. You are a lot better at this than I’ve given you credit for. Kudos.
TOMMY: Why do you hate me?
LILLY: I don’t know. Is hate the kind of thing that can be defined? Do you have to know someone intimately, or even at all, to hate them?
TOMMY: Can you ever hate someone, if you truly know them?
LILLY: Oh, yeah. Oh, definitely, that’s not even a question.
TOMMY: I do hate you.
TOMMY: But I know the reason. It’s because you’re callous and manipulative and you always assume the worst about people. I think you’re a terrible person.
LILLY: And I think you’re self-righteous. You think you’re above it all, like this… You think that not being a terrible person gives you certain inalienable rights. But you’re not as good as you think you are. Because there’s no such thing as “good” and “bad”, and the fact that you think there is makes you absolutely insufferable.