Boy? Jeremy wasn't a boy, was he? He was 15. 15 glorious years on earth, probably a brief moment in the lives of those dinosaurs that called themselves adults. But he was 15! In his reckoning, Jeremy was 3 years past the time when he should be called a boy, and in 3 years more he would become a man. Yes, he was short for his age (and he hadn't grown that much since he was 12, now that he thought about it), but surely he deserved some recognition for survivng another quarter of his life?

Wait, that wasn't the important thing here.

Jeremy pondered his response. He tried to meet the girl's eyes, but quickly looked away. He wasn't used to this, and she looked really mad for some reason. He hoped it wasn't his fault, and if it was, he didn't meant to do it. But what was he doing here, then? Nothing, really. He wasn't here for any particular reason. If he saw someone dishiveled in the street he would usually make some half-hearted excuse in his mind and leave them alone, but he didn't today was because he felt like it. It was just something he should do. And he had bought her a drink purely out of gentlemanly concern. It didn't have anything at all to do with the pretty girl and her wet shirt. Absolutely not.

The boy coughed to himself to clear his head. This was no time for such thoughts. Jeremy was a gentleman, a gentleman! He had to say something, otherwise she may think his intentions were... impure.
"Well, I was just passing by and thought you needed some help." He said, taking another sip of the drink.
The sweet, goopy soda assaulted his tongue, tiny bubbles struggling against the over-sugared 'liquid'. Was it getting worse? He didn't think that was possible.
"I just... I'm kind of wondering how you ended up like that. I mean, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, I guess..."

Jeremy didn't seem to realise that the way he was avoiding eye contact with the girl very obviously put the purity of his intentions into question.

[@Crowvette]