Christina sat across from Mark in a tiny booth in a downtown diner. She had never been taken out for breakfast before, so being there with him was a totally new experience for her. She ordered pancakes and drummed her fingers impatiently on the surface of the table while Mark looked over the complimentary newspaper.

He looked up at her quizzically. “You seem nervous. What’s the matter?” “You’re an idiot,” she blurted.

“Really?” he asked, hardly able to keep his mirth in check. “You know, Christina, you have this way of lashing out at me for no explicable reason. It’s intriguing. So tell me, why am I an idiot?”

“I...