Izzy shook her head, still not into the idea of 'mild pepperjack.' "That's very weird," she stated definitively, shaking her head. Maybe it was her own love of spicey things talking, but she just didn't get it.
She caught the frown and squirmed slightly in her seat, wondering if she had said the wrong thing. "I don't know," she said shyly, a hint of color seeping into her cheeks. "Everybody always groans when our teacher says it's time for Social Studies."
Izzy relaxed when he leaned forward, however, the encouragement earning a smile from her. The assurance in his 'no-nonsense' voice was something she needed to hear. "I don't," she promised, thinking over what he said carefully. "I don't say much of anything about it in school, really." And, she didn't. That didn't mean the other kids didn't notice when her graded papers always came back with 'A's, or that eyes didn't roll behind her back. It didn't bother her, though. She had friends, and plenty of them, and she was happy.
Her eyebrows scrunched together, and she glanced both ways before dropping her voice and addressing her father. "Have you ever noticed the kids everyone thinks are oh-so-spectacular are usually the really dumb ones?" It was an innocent observation at heart, but she saw some truth to it.