She sighed with all the weight of a terrible realization. He would have to be told. She would have to tell him. She could not wait for reality to sink in, nor for some better opportunity to present itself. After all, he already knew the half of it. Why not this half, too?

"This may come as a shock," she told him so dryly. So very sarcastically. "But I'm not like other girls. Or like other people in general, actually."

Understatement of the century? Check. "But if burning me makes you feel better, you for it. Burn, baby, burn. Disco freaking inferno."