“It kills me to say this, but you’re actually a tiny bit gifted.”
“How would you like it if I said to you, ‘It kills me to say this, but you’re actually a tiny bit beautiful’?” he had asked, pissed off.
She hadn’t said anything then, which was rare for her.
“Would you have been lying?” she said after a long silence.
“Lying about what?”
“About me being a tiny bit beautiful.”
But later that night, he had sent her a message on MSN.
Of course I was lying. The “tiny bit” part, anyway.