His mood was rapidly deteriorating into something that was far more than just a little irritated. Frankly, he was beginning to get angry, and for Tuck, that wasn't a good thing. The lad was a mellow and even-tempered wizard, but even he had his limits. And Lizzie was pushing them. Hard.

"I don't look like a bloody slob," he snarled. Okay, so he wore a few rumpled shirts and his ties weren't always knotted well. And he did tend to spill food on himself. But his clothing was clean. Enough. He didn't stink! He showered daily and he brushed his hair and his teeth. And, honestly, when he was in uniform, who the bloody hell cared if he didn't look like a bleedin' runway model? His clothing was the proper size and, when out of uniform, he may wear the occasional stained shirt and his trousers might have a few grass stains and the like, but stains were stains. It wasn't like he went out of his way to get them. 

"And if anyone is trying to run anyone's life, if you! You and your obsessive focus on my studies and schedules and trying to always get up in my face about this crap! The whole bloody school knows you think me a dunce!" Okay, maybe he exaggerated. "And they all know you're walking about scheduling my every minute down to when I can take a piss!" Hyperbole. "And now you're saying I gotta dress like the damn Prince of Wales himself? Just because I say I don't want you showing off your tits? And, for the record," he added, entirely no longer caring about his sandwich, which showed how angry he was, "it weren't just Joel! The whole bloody lot of lads watched you bounce your assets about."