"Don't tell me you're a high school student." It was Francis' turn to look curiously toward Layla. If they had met before he didn't remember her specifically. A lot of people cycled in and out of the nurse's office every day and he only remembered the regulars, or the ones who made an impression on him. One of the latter cases was currently sitting in his house, probably brooding in his room at the moment, and was just the guy he'd come to the pub to forget. So, to part himself from that line of thinking, Francis took a deep drink from his beer and focused on what Layla said next.
"You would rather kiss a stranger than seem like a bitch," he said. It wasn't a question, more like a thoughtful musing, although Francis would accept an answer in reply. He didn't understand it, especially because Layla seemed the complete opposite of what he would consider shy. What was it to be a bitch to a guy she didn't know and would hopefully never see again?
Then again, he could ask himself the same question. He had, after all, accepted the role of her boyfriend for a short time, for no other reason than to be nice and help her out. Instead of solve that mystery, Francis decided to take another drink of his beer.