Nothing.

...What? He wasn't obligated to make small talk. Too much of a hassle.

The stares creaked and at first Robin passed it off as another guest, until he heard a familiar southern drawl. "I'm back!"

Robin turned to the stairs, watching Matilda descend. He had to cock an eyebrow at the sight.

The girl had changed out of her sweater, tights, and skirt, having replaced them with a blue spaghetti strap tank top and an orange pleated miniskirt. Aside from some brown flip-flops, she wasn't wearing anything else, not even a bra. She'd even ditched her glasses and let her hair down. With more skin showing, he could see she was on the tan side... and suspiciously lacking in tan lines.

Without the glasses, her innocent blue eyes gazed at him with a light in them that showed a playful interest. Her hair, no longer done up in its messy bun, was straight and reached down to the small of her back, a single strand of hair poking out from the top of her head. Without that bra and sweater suppressing them, it was now clear that her tits were even larger than Robin first thought. He'd seen smaller tits in boob fetish porn. With the tights gone, he could also see her voluptuous thighs more clearly, though he could also see the slight paunch to her waist, between the skirt and tank. She wasn't a thin girl, that was for sure. But now that she was out of that frumpy sweater and tights, Robin could see that she wasn't fat, nor as geeky as he thought. In fact, despite the lack of make up, he couldn't deny she was... pretty.

"Where are your glasses?" he asked.

With her hands clasped behind her back as she descended the stairs, she let out an airy giggle. "I only need 'em for readin' or ridin' my bike! My eyes ain't that bad! So, how do I look?" She did a spin, her skirt flipping up a bit. Robin briefly wondered if she was wearing panties, but he didn't get a chance to really look, considering the spin sent her massive, unsupported tits swinging like two sandbags, drawing his eyes despite himself. She ended her spin, seemingly oblivious to the anatomical reaction or ambiguous nature of the existence of her panties, smiling at the novelist.

"You look nice, I guess." He shrugged. Too much effort to really compliment her. Besides, she was pretty, but definitely not a 10/10 or anything.

She giggled, a slight blush coming to her cheeks. "Aww, thanks! Awful nice a ya'll to say! Thought I'd throw somethin' casual on for the warm weather, y'know? So, want that breakfast?"

Ugh, he was gonna regret this... He could probably get out of it, but... something told him this girl was one of those extroverts who wouldn't leave him alone unless he did this. And he really didn't want to avoid her for the rest of the summer...