At this point Sally was sitting on the arm of couch with her head in her hands and muttering "shite" over and over again. She took a deep breath and looked at Harold, only slightly glaring. She was frustrated at herself for yelling at him. With the added bonus of feeling like an idiot because she had noticed the step back.
Sighing, she said, "It's not a joke. I'm not that clever. Yes, Harold, you're the guy I like instead of girls." She was speaking very slowly so that he understood her. Taking a last look, Sally flopped onto the couch cushions and stared at the ceiling, waiting for Harold to do something.