[His demeanor both unsettled and challenged her, and she attempted to keep her face bland and smooth, eyes icily fixed on him. Her lips began to part to speak, but she quickly took back the motion, pursing them into a bit of a pout and looking over at the wall across from her. Her face fell as she thought about his words.]

It's hard. [There was more of a quietness to her voice now, but her tone is not yielding or gentle.] Feeling in demand of someone's attention, but not knowing ...why you want it.

[A flash of confusion in her eyes, suddenly, as she looked at Jason with the perplexed expression of a clueless fifth grader in a physics class.]

I don't know if I want to talk. I mean, I want to say things, and I want to hear your voice, but I don't ... know. If I want to "talk."