Conversations overheard (2)

As I approach my front gate, two young teenagers are walking behind me having a conversation just out of range. I stop, open the gate, close it behind me, walk up the path to the front door, and they pass within earshot as I put my key into the lock. One of them says something I don’t catch, on a rising interrogative note, and her friend clearly replies:

“How should I know? I can’t read my brother’s mind – and the sort of girls he likes don’t have minds to read...”