Plastic ware," he said slowly, "like knives and forks and spoons?"<br />I brushed a bit of dirt off the back of my car—was that a scratch?—and said casually,<br />"Yeah, I guess.Just the basics, you know."<br />"Did you need plastic ware?" he asked.<br />I shrugged.<br />"Because," he went on, and I fought the urge to squirm, "it's so funny, because I need<br />plastic ware. <i>Badly.</i>"<br />"Can we go inside, please?" I asked, slamming the trunk shut. "It's hot out here."<br />He looked at the bag again, then at me. And then, slowly, the smile I knew and<br />dreaded crept across his<br />face. "You bought me <i>plastic ware</i>," he said. "Didn't you?'<br />"No," I growled, picking at my license plate.<br />"You did!" he hooted, laughing out loud. "You bought me some forks. And knives.<br />And spoons.<br />Because—"<br />"No," I said loudly.<br />"—you love me!" He grinned, as if he'd solved the puzzler for all time, as I felt a flush<br />creep across my<br />face. Stupid Lissa. I could have killed her.<br />"It was on sale," I told him again, as if this was some kind of an excuse.<br />"You love me," he said simply, taking the bag and adding it to the others.<br />"Only seven bucks," I added, but he was already walking away, so sure of himself. "It<br />was on clearance,<br />for God's sake."<br />"Love me," he called out over his shoulder, in a singsong voice. "You. Love. Me.