"'Charge'," Bridgette repeated, "As in someone who needs him." She stepped back when he kicked the locker, too many years around people with tempers making her jumpy.
Bridgette knew he was right, but also knew telling him so wouldn't change anything. So instead she touched his shoulder, looked him square in the eye and said incredulously, "Get over it."
She spun him around until he was facing her, his back to the lockers and said, the same determination on her face, "Guess what? This time? It's on you to stick around. Yeah. You've, maybe for the first time, got an actual chance. Hello!? You've just found out you're divinely favored and this is how you react? Miles doesn't just pick up anyone, and neither do I. He has to be tapped, and I have to be sure. You're going to have deal with the fact that maybe, just maybe there are people in this world that don't suck and have some fucking faith in you. So cry me a river, then build a bridge and get over it."