Don't got a dad. [He barely lingers after saying it, casual from years of explaining to classmates and teachers why he has his mother's name.] If I took Mom's car she would kick my ass. And why do I need a car when I'm this fast? I didn't need one to get you to the museum.

[He waggles his eyebrows. He might be chasing her but there's no reason he can't force the implication to be lighthearted.

He takes another drink, grimacing this time because she's not too far off the truth. Most things in life are a special sort of torture for him, with how quickly he processes things and how slow the world is as a result. He doesn't think anyone quite gets how constant he needs attention to be.]

What can I say? I just really hate being ignored by pretty girls.