“People are staring at us,” he said.
“No, they’re not.”
He looked down at the tickets in his hand. “Yes, they are.” He handed our tickets to the usher. “It’s fine. It’s funny.”
“I wore flats,” I said. I liked him. I’d jumped up and down when he called and asked me out.
“You look great,” he said, and walked over to the concession stand.
Which do you think works better with characters in fiction? Opposites attract or birds of a feather?