You had just asked Mary-Anne to be girlfriend, and all she did was stammer and run away. Clearly she didn't want you to be her boyfriend. Now, you were at a meeting, staring at eachother, well, you were glaring. Mallory was blabbing on and on cluelessly about how you and Mary-Anne kissed three times... thrice?... whatever. "So, are you two official?" Stacey asks, looking at you.