" You did listen." He sat back, nodding his head. " Okay, then. Now tell me what you really thought." " I told you. It was interesting." " Interesting," he said, " is not a word." " Since when?" " It's a placeholder. Something you use when you don't want to say something else." He leaned a little closer to me. " Look, if you're worried about my feelings, don't be. You can say whatever you want. I won't be offended." " I did. I liked it." " Tell the truth. Say something. Anything. Just spit it out." " I—" I began, then stopped myself. Maybe it was the fact that he was so clearly on to me. Or my sudden awareness of how rarely I was honest. Either way, I broke. " I… I didn't like it," I said.He slapped his leg. " I knew it! You know, for someone who lies a lot, you're not very good at it." This was a good thing. Or not? I wasn't sure. " I'm not a liar," I said." Right. You're nice," he said." What's wrong with nice?" " Nothing. Except it usually involves not telling the truth," he replied. " Now. Tell me what you really thought. "