Wally leaned on the cart, watching with some amusement at the chaos of different expressions on Bart's face: confusion, then certainty, exasperation, simple stating, then back to uncertainty, his weight shifting around in the giant shoes.
Had he ever been this awkward? ... Nah. Surely not.
So when Bart finally gave him the certain statement, Wally looked up at the lights, high above the shelves with plastic wrapped pallets over their heads. "Here's the problem... You're in high school now. This..." He motioned down at the valentines. "Isn't going to cut it for friendships. That was before. Now they don't do V-day parties in class. And honestly, that chic does not strike me as the kind who wants pink candies and bows." Because she was kind of like a mini-girl-Rogue. Rogues didn't like that kind of thing. "And since I'm not going to let you buy her cigars, you're going to have to figure out something else for me to buy if you really think you need to get this 'friend' something."
It would probably make Bart miffed, maybe even irritable and grouchy, but he was determined to try to make his teen life a little easier. They apparently had none of these situations in the simulator. Also, Bart already disliked him--better that than allowing the kid two angry, awkward-feeling chics to make him wonder what they were acting weird about.
Because at least Wally had experience with awkward.
"Besides, you know those chocolate heart boxes are seventeen bucks each, right?"