“Sounded the same in my ears.” She smirked before sliding into her seat and opening her textbook. I got a quick look at the magazine clipping that she used as a book cover. Immediately, my brows flew up to my hairline.

“You have a crush on Mick Jagger?!”

“So what if I do?”

“But why?” I just couldn’t wrap my mind around it. I had met the legendary rocker a few times. And well.. he was.. old.

“For no particular reason other than the fact that he’s Mick Jagger.” She retorts casually.

“But he’s ugly!”

Tina looked at me as if I had just said something blasphemous. “He is not!”

“Yes he is. He’s all pruney and wrinkly and shit.”

“It comes with old age!” She frowns at me. “You’d be pruney too by the time you’re sixty.”

“Not if I can help it.” I knock on wood. “I’m sure I’d age like fine wine. He, on the other hand, aged like milk. Fresh one minute, sour the next.”

Tina’s mouth dropped open again. Nowadays, I get that appalled look a lot from her. “Take that back! Compared to some of the men his age, he’s far from being hideous!”

“Okay fine, so he doesn’t look like Shrek,” I backtrack a bit. “But that does not mean that he doesn’t look like a donkey either.”

Her eyes shot wide open like I had stuck an electric rod up her ass. “Bette Porter, you’re so mean!”

“I’m just being honest.”

“Honest? I could think of a more appropriate word than that..”

“What, blunt?”

“No. Tactless.”

“Pfft.” I dismissed. “Tact is for people who like to pussyfoot on the truth. I prefer to keep it real, no matter how many feelings I hurt.”

“Oh really?” Tina arched an eyebrow.

“Absolutely.”

“So if I looked ugly today, you’d tell me?”

“That’s impossible. You’d never look ugly to me, even if you gain fifty pounds, have three chins and grow a tummy the size of a watermelon.”

“Hypothetically.” Tina rolls her eyes, trying to suppress a smile. “Suppose I have a real bad day and look it too, would you tell me that I look less than attractive?”