"So what'd you drag me out here for?" Tom asked with a sarcastic tone, his long strided walk slowing to let Dahlia walk beside him. "It's not like I'm busy or anything, but I could be at home eating something really bad for me, but amazingly delicious."

"Stop whining already. You love coming outside with me, admit it. And besides, my mom won't let me go down to the river by myself anymore. Stupid kids and setting trees on fire," Dahlia muttered.

"What, you don't think I wouldn't rather be at home? My mom left cheesecake in the freezer and it's a miracle my brother hasn't eaten it yet. It's practically calling me."

"Well you didn't have to say yes to coming out."

"Sure I did. Who else do you have?"

"My cat," she said in a hard tone, "at least he wants to spend time with me!"

"Yeah, but that's only because you rub his belly and it makes him purr like crazy."

She looked over at him as they walked. "Well, the option is always open if you're interested."

"Yuck, that's not even a selling point."

"Ouch. Twist the knife a little more."

"Well…. I guess I didn't mean it like that. I mean, you're nice and everything. Like, look at your competition though." He pointed to the public pool they were passing where the loser kids of their apartment complex would go to float their lazy asses for an hour and burn lobster-style. "I mean, look- you've got the idiots and the assholes and then there are the whales, who are so freakin' fat that they don't need a category for themselves, they need a state. So, you're not that bad I guess."

"So…what you're saying is that I'm okay to hang out with because the competition sucks so bad? That's reeaaalll nice Tom. You know how to make a girl feel wanted."

"Will you relax, you know I didn't mean it that way. It's just- you're not perfect okay? And, well, neither am I but, you know, you could talk a little bit more. Other girls talk way more than you do."

Dahlia sighed, "Sorry I don't talk as much as some other really chatty girlfriends who make your ears explode after two minutes. Would you rather I be like that?"

"Well, you could just try, I dunno…to fill in the blanks of the conversation. I always feel like I have to do it. That's not the guy's job."

"Aren't you always saying that you can never get that girlfriend of yours to shut up? And now you want me to talk more? I like the quiet. Why is that a problem? And why can't you ever say anything nice to me? Is that so hard?" She puffed out her chest and took on a very impressive deeper voice. "'Hey Dahlia, you look all spiffy today, yeah I like how you don't talk as much as my psycho girlfriend, and I love hanging out with you. The cheesecake can wait.'"

She sighed, stooping her shoulders, and stopped walking. She shook her head. "I change my mind Tom," she said, looking at the ground, "I'm tired of feeling like I'm not good enough. Now I'm not even good enough to hang out with you? That's an all-time low. You can go eat your cheesecake." She shoved her hands in her pockets and gave a weak smile before turning around. "I'm going home," she choked out.

Tom watched her go, looking confused and somewhat bored. "Now that was way too much like my girlfriend," he mumbled.

a/n: Tom, sometimes you suck...sometimes you don't, sometimes i want to rip out your throat, but in this short poem, i know that it's true. the only thing equal to my hate is the most hated love i feel for you. hee hee -poetry is not my forte'. please review.