"So what happened?"
"What do you mean 'what happened'?"
He motions for me to move over; I refuse. He moves instead.
"You're such a woman."
"Whatever."
"With the teacher. What happened with the teacher?"
Him, he already judged me for this last week, he already found me guilty.
"What had to happen."
We go back and forth for a while.
"You hated me."
"I didn't hate you. You pissed me off."
He sticks out his hand in an offering of peace and understanding. I don't take it.
"I didn't do it to hurt her. I did it because I couldn't live with myself letting this happen. She wasn't the first and she won't be the last."
"I think you did the right thing."
And then the one that really pissed him off.
"It doesn't matter that you think I'm a bad person."
"I don't think you're a bad pers--"
"No, I don't care what you think of me."
He stares me down, angry.
After class, he tells me I made this all about myself. That I'm selfish and inconsiderate and that I'm a horrible person. I tell him he's condoning it, he's saying things that run in direct intersection with things he said a month ago.
I can't decide which one pisses him off more; the fact that I rejected him, or the fact that I'm right.