Adequate response?

Maisie stared back at her phone, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

I don't know how much she knew the real me, but she apparently vastly underestimated my analytical abilities.

So, I'm the first person she's ever confided in. She's clearly seen it happen in her family, at least—that explains her lack of surprise. The problem is just one thing: her preternatural calm.

Masie didn't just not perceive me as a threat. She acted as if she were in control.

My father often told me, "Son, people often perceive kindness and generosity as weakness. Use that as your weapon." The old man knew what he was talking about—they didn't keep fools at Langley.

I truly loved her for a long time. I truly didn't dare break our friendship. But it wasn't weakness. It was nobility. Partly, judging by what I just observed, stupidity.

If Maisie had behaved differently, if she had shown at least some caution, respect... In short, if she had behaved naturally, given the situation...

Nothing would have happened. I would have consoled her, reassured her, my "protector instinct" would have kicked in...

But, you know... "History doesn't tolerate the subjunctive mood." My father used to say that too.

"Maisie, take your eyes off the phone, sit up straight, don't try to leave the car, shout, harm me or yourself, or attract the attention of passersby. Act as if we were just having a normal conversation. You remain in this state until I tell you otherwise."

I didn't limit her facial expressions with that order. And I was rewarded with such a play of eyes and eyebrows that I mentally gave her a standing ovation.

"What?... How?!... What are you doing! What the hell! Stop it immediately! Are you completely crazy!"

"No, of course not. I just finally put two and two together. You see, I'm quite good at analysis. I admit, up until a certain point, I was blinded by my crush on you. But today—you yourself managed to "break the magic." Congratulations."

"What?! What are you talking about! You're crazy!"

"Oh my God... Macy, let's skip the "foreplay" and explanations and get straight to the key questions. I'll explain everything later. Okay: Macy, from now on, you answer all my questions completely, honestly, and without equivocation. You cannot distort information, manipulate information, or use other techniques, like "Jedi Truth."

"No." No-no-no-no.... Please, don't do this... Stop in time.... - it seemed she was seriously scared.

"Maisie, did you know I've loved you all this time?"

"Yes," the girl said resignedly.

"How long ago?"

"Well, I suppose since about 15."

"Did you use that in our relationship?"

"YES!" she breathed out, almost with hatred, and glared at me angrily.

"Fine. Calm down. I'll find out everything anyway." Just as my father had taught me, as soon as my mind went into "battle mode," my emotions retreated completely. I felt no pity, no regret, no anger, no resentment. Only emptiness and curiosity. Of course, after the interrogation, my emotions would catch up. But now—now it was important to know everything.

"How do you feel about me?"

"As a friend!" she answered quickly.

"And that's all?" A detailed answer, please, "sweetheart," and explain why, despite dating so many guys, you've never tried to start a relationship with me?

"I treat you like a friend. Asexual. I don't see you as a man. Hell, I despise you as a man. You're pathetic: we've known each other for ages, you've spent your whole life looking at me with puppy dog ​​eyes, and yet you've never even grabbed my ass. Honestly, I'm not even sure you have any balls. Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted to hear?!"

Honestly, it was painful. Even in a detached, combative state. I think if a guy my age heard that in a completely emotionally open state, it would have ended badly. For a guy.

Right now, it was more threatening to Maisie.

"No. That's not exactly what I wanted to hear. However, I wanted to hear the truth. And besides, I already suspected something like this. You switched too easily from revealing the secret that allows him to take complete control over you to your usual, detached demeanor. By the way, Maisie, unlock your smartphone, and without closing it or switching apps, hand it to me."

"You know... Now I think I hate you..." Maisie handed me the iPhone. I quickly scanned the screen. Of course, it was a conversation. Of course, with another dumb jock. The content, in general, was focused on describing how, where, and how many times he would fuck Maisie. Maisie mostly sent likes and hearts. I skimmed through the messages and wasn't at all surprised to find a few dick pics. Apparently, my ideas about my "childhood girlfriend" were a bit idealized.

"Hmm... I must admit, I didn't think you were such a slut."

"Oh, so that's how you even talked to me now? What about the crush, the puppy eyes? Samurai, wake up—you've shit yourself!"

I scrutinized her face. Tense lips, twitching corners of her eyes, pale jaw muscles, shallow breathing... Despite all the apparent bravado, she was afraid!

"Baby, please tell me, why are you trying to provoke me? You're afraid of what might happen. You understand that I can do whatever I want to you at any moment. So what came over you?"

"I've lost control! I don't know what to do! You were always so... pliable and accommodating! I was one hundred percent sure that by entrusting you with the secret, I was making the safest choice in my life! And now I just don't recognize you! I don't know how to act! Behind my passive aggression, I'm hiding the fact that I'm scared shitless! Damn it! Why did I say all this..." The girl dropped her face into her hands and burst into tears.

"Interesting. And you've never felt guilty about what you do? For using me, for treating me like a convenient object, a personal... cuckold?" The realization struck me with a profoundly unpleasant ache.

"And you've been surrounded by a stunningly beautiful girl. I'm the leader of our school's cheerleaders, right? Look at you. With your indecisiveness, your looks—you never had a chance of being in the company of someone like me. You're fat! Even Billy found you boring, bullying and harassing you."

"Oh, my girl, with your smugness and vanity—you've managed to miss literally everything. I look normal, and what you think is fat is just a hoodie on an endomorph. As for Billy... You remember, after a couple of times he tried to bully me, he came to school with a bloody face, a broken arm, and said he fell off his skateboard?" "Yeah..." It seemed like something was starting to sink in for Maisie.

"Well, I made up the skateboarding story. It was part of our agreement. I don't like being bullied. But I didn't want to show off my unusual skills either. So I had to give the guy a little trouble, explain what would happen next time, and offer him a deal."

"So that's why he kept discouraging the rest of the team from bothering you..." Maisie muttered, completely dumbfounded.

"Wake up, samurai!" I couldn't help but say, returning Maisie's joke.

"What the hell is going on! Who the hell are you, and where did you put my Brad?!" If she'd been looking at me with fear before, now it was panic.

"Please calm down," I winced. "I haven't disappeared. I just reconsidered our relationship. Admit it—I had every reason. After all, it's not every day you find out that the girl you've loved your entire adult life and cared about every minute looks at you like you're a sexless cuckold."

"You know... Now you're acting extremely unexpectedly. And while it's understandable in my case, in yours it raises a lot of questions..." Maisie calmed down a little, but the fear didn't subside.

"Well, actually, there's a logical explanation. In short, you've only ever seen one part of my personality, and far from the largest one at that. If you'd invested more in our friendship, you'd understand that I have a rather unusual background and complicated parents.

"So who are you? Superman?" Maisie again decided to hide behind passive aggression, and I had another revelation.

"Maisie, do you have empathy issues? Are you by any chance a psychopath, in the medical sense?"

"I... Oh... Well, I haven't been diagnosed. But... Damn, I hate both you and that fucking witch! Yeah! I've never been able to seriously feel emotions. Well, I think so. I never understood why everyone was so obsessed with love and all that other stuff. Are you happy, genius?!

"You have no idea. Maisie, from now on, I want you to be not just empathic, but twice as empathic, sensitive, and heartfelt as the average girl!"

"Oh. My. God!" "Maisie looked up, eye to eye. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

This lasted for about thirty seconds, and then, unexpectedly, she leaped from her chair toward me, pressed herself against me, buried her head in my chest, and burst into tears, wailing, "Oh, Brad, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry... Oh God, I'm so guilty... What a bastard I was... Forgive me, please, if you can..."

For the first time in this conversation, I was completely stunned....