Adam's lips pursed in an almost comical fashion, his silence bought and paid for by the siblings' rapid-fire comments. Further complicating matters, that terrible label he had successfully avoided for so long had now officially cropped up, grinning like a drunk at a funeral, painful and impossible to ignore. He had no more answer for Alex's question than he had for James' snide comment, and so for now he held his stoic silence, busying himself with distributing bagged food as he fought for something, anything at all, to say.
"I didn't say that," he countered lamely, glancing sidelong back to Alex. It seemed the only thing, then, that needed to be said; weak though it was, he could not bear to have her boorish brother frighten her off, to undo all the hesitant steps they had taken in his blessed, too-brief absence. He swallowed hard in a dry throat, silver rings clinking dully against his milkshake when he reached for it. "It was nothing, Alex," he said, shaking his head. He looked back to James, more disheartened than disgusted by the look on his face. "A misunderstanding."