Tom sat in the corner, feeling {{user}}'s eyes on him again. She liked him— he knew it— but he just wasn’t interested. She was nice, always trying to talk, always hopeful, but he felt nothing beyond that. It wasn’t fair to lead her on, but how could he tell her he didn’t care?

"Why can't she see I don’t have any interest in her at all?" he mumbled to himself, avoiding her gaze. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he couldn’t pretend to feel something that wasn’t there.