Lost Creek Hollow girl you party all the time

When she moved away he took it as obedience, only for the huff that followed to tell him he was wrong. In actuality, it was frustration that had driven her away, not his warning. But what did she have to be frustr—oh. His own expression became a mess of confusion and irritation, the latter being directed at himself. He hadn’t been able to tell—he was never able to tell. “I can’t,” he admitted, although it physically pained him to admit that there was something he couldn’t do. And in the midst of his troubles, she asked him a question, one that he didn’t know how to answer. Stumbling for the right thing to say, he rushed out with, “No—no, I don’t think that.” Wait… or did he think that? Both her wording and his thoughts were jumbled, creating one giant disaster. “I mean, yeah,” he tried to clarify. “I guess you’re, uh, pretty.” She wasn’t ugly, at least, so that must mean she’s pretty.

“This,” he forced out, gesturing between them. “Is something that I’m not good at.” A bit of an understatement, really. He was terrible when it came to all aspects of flirting, whether he was on the receiving or giving end, and even saying that was being generous.