Miles cannot convince Janice

He is already turning away when she grabs his arm.

He turns back.

Janice is looking at him with an expression that has moved well past annoyed and is heading somewhere considerably less comfortable.

Janice: you know what.

Miles: Janice—

Janice: no. She holds up a hand. you want to stand here and call me a prude. Fine. Call me a prude.

Miles: I'm just saying—

Janice: I know exactly what you're saying.

She sets her drink down on the nearest surface, her jaw tight, her eyes bright with the particular energy of someone who has been sitting on something all night and has just been given the final push.

Janice: I was getting bored anyway.

Miles: Janice.

Janice: She looks at him with a flat steady expression. thanks actually.

Miles: for what.

Janice: for pissing me off enough to finally do what I've been thinking about doing all night.

She picks up her drink, straightens up, and looks across the room with an expression he has never seen on her before. Decided. Completely decided.

She does not look back at him.

Janice: goodnight Miles.

She walks away.

Miles watches her go.

That did not go as planned.