The attachment to his lacrosse stick is totally stupid, but that doesn’t stop him from holding it to his chest protectively. When she offers an explanation and apology, some of the tension in his limbs unwinds gingerly. It’s way too dark for him to determine if she’s telling the truth, and even then, he’s not exactly an expert on gun models. Still, he’s willing to believe her simply because she’s a young and attractive girl. What can he say? He’s a dumbass teenage boy.

“If you thought I was a criminal, why did you approach me with a fake gun?” he asks, though it’s less accusatory and more incredulous.