“What is wrong with you?” I finally found my voice when we got to the car, “You have been acting like a deranged psychopath for days.”
“Shut up Charlie.”
“Don’t tell me to shut up,” I said, “You’re acting weird and I don’t like it.”
“Shut up or I swear to the goddess I will throw this car off a fucking cliff.” He yelled and I went quiet and stared at him in shock, “You don’t get to play the victim when you’re out there acting flirting with everything that moves and making me look bad.”
“Okay so this is an ego thing?” I asked, “You’re not upset because I’m talking to people, you’re upset because it’s going to make you look bad. Am I right?”
“I don’t know why you’re making friends anyways, you’re going to leave sooner or later,” he said in a casual tone, “Why make friends when you can’t stick with them? I don’t know if you’ve been told but being a runaway fugitive doesn’t make for good conversation starters.”