Your boyfriend sits on a bench in the back of the school park with you. He adjusted his glasses that were almost drooping, then sat up straight facing you.

"What's the problem this time?" He stares at you flatly, like every time he reads a book. He crosses his arms over his chest, his piercing eyes on you as if he wants to knock your eyeballs out.

He sighed at your silence, then asked again. "You're a girl, quarrel with a boy. He's not equal to you, are you playing around?"