"I don't have an identity outside my sport. I have to go back." My small voice was swallowed by the silent night, blending in with the crickets and the silent glow of the stars in the sky. We were laying on the hood of his car, our backs against the windshield. It was a few minutes after sunset, the sun completely gone.
"I don't think that is true. You sell yourself short." Jackass cajoled next to me; his hand tucked behind his head. I scoffed in retort, rolling my eyes as I said, "you don't even know me well enough to make that observation."
"I can read people." was his simple explanation. I giggled incredulously, but stopped when he turned to look at me, suddenly feeling self-conscious about my laugh. "You don't believe me?" he challenged, smirking at me.
"It's not that I don't believe you, its how far you're willing to go to justify your presumption that's amusing me, Anthony." I mused. He flashed me his crooked smile, his blue eyes almost black under the moonlight.
