She didn't want to talk about it. She didn't. The more she thought about it, the more she was ashamed for being so stupid, for being such an idiot. For thinking that she could fix things, that she could make things right, that she could be what someone needed. For thinking that she deserved to have friends. For just being stupid.
She pulled his duster around her, almost burying herself inside it, cocooning herself against him, where nobody could find her and hurt her, trembling with emotion.
Finally, after several minutes, she looked up at him with red, bloodshot eyes.