Damn. He unfolded his legs, dropping one foot to either side of the bench, then spent a moment making sure his towel was still covering him. He re-tucked it on his hip, though doubted it was any more secure than it had been. Advanced lesson? Sounded like code for dream on. "I don't stutter," he said, flashing a halfhearted grin at Genma. "I mean, not like st-st-stuttering." He just repeated words sometimes, and that was different. The school psychiatrist had told his mom so. "And I didn't drool!" This time, he actually snorted, rolling his eyes. "I just say the stupidest things. Like, I keep trying to come up with something good to say, and instead I sound like a retard."

The bench was plastic, worn through on the spot between his knees, showing the polished metal undercasing. He rubbed at it with his thumb. "Girls like you." It didn't sound quite like a compliment. "I bet they liked you in the Academy, too." The look he angled up was almost accusatory. Genma had totally been one of those guys.

Then his expression shifted, pleading hopefully. "Can't you teach me how to be just a little bit cool? I mean, even if it was only so I didn't put my foot in my mouth..."