Chapter Seventeen
“Does Mr. Rogers know you’re at a party again?”
“Mr. Rogers?” I look back up at him. I don’t get it.
“Your boyfriend. He is the biggest tool I have ever seen.”
“Don’t talk about him like that, he is . . . he is . . . nice,” I stutter. When Hardin laughs, I stand up. He doesn’t know Noah at all. “You could only dream of being as nice as he is,” I say sharply.
“Nice? That’s the first word that comes to your mind when talking about your boyfriend? Nice is your ‘nice’ way of calling him boring.”
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