"Who teaches this crap?" Liliana snapped. "Give me a name, a classroom number. Tell me, Dean, who is teaching basketball? Baseball? Physical education? So no, it's not on me! This! This is exactly what you do! You assume everybody magically knows exactly the same thing you do and when they don't, it's somehow their fault! Nobody can know what they don't know, you stubborn fuckwit. Show me where on the island these things are done! I'll get you a map and if you can point to where any of this is happening, I'll pay you. Get out of my house? Get out of my shop? I travel, Dean. I go places that aren't here and whatever parts of the country you're used to where everybody thinks like you do. Do you want me to name all the places I've been, just since summer?"

She was seething now, her eyes glowing purple. "You are a judgmental asshole and the worse thing is, you don't even realize it. I don't know something you think is basic, and it must be my fault, it must be because I don't go anywhere. I can't believe you've had multiple chances at life and you've still squandered them refusing to broaden your fucking horizons and understand that the things you know are highly contextualized."

She gave him one last baleful glare before spinning on her heel. "If you can think of that teacher, text me. Otherwise, I think we're done for tonight. Enjoy the party."