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           "Yes,becauseyou’renotlisteningtome.I’mstillwaitingforyoutobelieveit.Ifyou’resmart,you’llavoidme."

           "Ithinkyou’vemadeyouropiniononthesubjectofmyintellectclear,too."Myeyesnarrowed.

           Hesmiledapologetically.

           "So,aslongasI’mbeing...notsmart,we’lltrytobefriends?"Istruggledtosumuptheconfusingexchange.

           "Thatsoundsaboutright."

           Ilookeddownatmyhandswrappedaroundthelemonadebottle,notsurewhattodonow.

           "Whatareyouthinking?"heaskedcuriously.

           Ilookedupintohisdeepgoldeyes,becamebefuddled,and,asusual,blurtedoutthetruth.

           "I’mtryingtofigureoutwhatyouare."

           Hisjawtightened,buthekepthissmileinplacewithsomeeffort.

           "Areyouhavinganyluckwiththat?"heaskedinanoffhandtone.

           "Nottoomuch,"Iadmitted.

           Hechuckled."Whatareyourtheories?"

           Iblushed.IhadbeenvacillatingduringthelastmonthbetweenBruceWayneandPeterParker.TherewasnowayIwasgoingtoownuptothat.

           "Won’tyoutellme?"heasked,tiltinghisheadtoonesidewithashockinglytemptingsmile.

           Ishookmyhead."Tooembarrassing."

           "That’sreallyfrustrating,youknow,"hecomplained.

           "No,"Idisagreedquickly,myeyesnarrowing,"Ican’timaginewhythatwouldbefrustratingatall-justbecausesomeonerefusestotellyouwhatthey’rethinking,evenifallthewhilethey’remakingcrypticlittleremarksspecificallydesignedtokeepyouupatnightwonderingwhattheycouldpossiblymean...now,whywouldthatbefrustrating?"

           Hegrimaced.