Hipster High scene

“Let's play a game,” Luke said.
“Okay, what?” Gwendolyn asked.
“What do you hate the most here?”
She thought for a minute, bit her lip while her glance roamed the room. She settled on a pack of boys sitting on the cafeteria tables, all wearing trucker hats and worn-out sneakers that squeaked on the laminate benches.
“Laid-back people,” she said.
“God, yes!” Luke agreed.
“I mean, can't they have at least one psychological issue? I hate it when they're so cool with anything. Nothing bothers them. They're comfortable anywhere. And of course they're funny, and charming. Give me someone with anorexia, fear of heights, or bad skin. Then I'll talk to you.”
Luke smiled. “Is that why you talk with me?”
“Yep,” Gwendolyn said. “You got issues. You've got substance.”
“Speaking of funny and charming,” Luke said. “My turn.”
“Go for it.”
“Irony,” he said. Gwendolyn slapped his laugh. “Get out!”
“This place is dripping with irony. Everything is juxtaposed so that it's funny because of its context,” Luke said. He pointed over to the girls smoking in front of the NO SMOKING sign. “See? They're standing there on purpose. Just so those laid-back guys notice and laugh.”
“Nothing is sacred to them,” Gwendolyn added.
“Everything is ironic to them.”
“Yeah,” she said, and bit into her lip again. She looked at Luke, then looked away. He looked away too, watching the girls form ribbons of smoke to match the ringlets in their hair.