"Why not?" he responded, smugly. "Do you have a boyfriend?"
I'd been reared by a tough, feminist mother, and being caged had triggered the part of me that was all fangs and claws. "Is there any difference?" I exploded.
My inquiry took him off surprise, but he quickly recovered and stared at me as if I were crazy. His tone was tinged with arrogance. "Of sure," you say.
“Why?” I raised my chin and narrowed my eyes, allowing him time to respond, but he faltered. "Is it because it implies I belong to someone else?" I asked.
Confusion drew his brows together. “Uh . . .”
"I told you I wasn't interested, but no." You're not going to respect that. You'll only leave if you believe I'm another man's property." I straightened my back and tried to stand as tall as possible, like I wasn't afraid. "I'm not interested in you or in becoming someone else's property." Goodbye.”