“What is he like?”
Tall, dark, and handsome, like the heroes in the romance novels I wasn’t supposed to know she read. She hid them in her bedroom closet, and I’d discovered them when I was fourteen. That summer was full of discoveries as I borrowed one after the other and read under the covers so that I wouldn’t be found out.
Cold, distant, and obnoxious, too, and that made for a much less pleasant picture of him, although just as accurate.