Cougar

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* this mean we’re going back in time. remember that, plz.
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From beside me, someone muttered, “I want to throw something at him.” I, along with Rachel, laughed at Brooke - Shelby was too busy staring down at a book her English teacher was forcing her and a hundred other students to read. The Crucible. Rachel leaned forward to try and see who Brooke was staring at.

“Who?”

Brooke limply pointed her finger across the room. We looked to see Collin Messler sitting at his assigned seat, consumed in a conversation with the guy across from him.

In case we didn’t see him, Brooke continued to mumble, “Collin.”

At the mentioning of his name, Collin glanced over at us. Rachel and Brooke shot their gazes down, but failed to hold back their loud giggles. I, on the other hand, forgot how to move and stared at him for a few seconds before mentally slapping myself on my forehead.

I casually looked away.

“Then throw something at him,” I said in a ‘duh’ tone, slouching back in my seat. Last night didn’t go too well for me. I’ve been deadly tired all day, and these hard plastic chairs were starting to hurt my bum - more than it already did. (Subtle hints about my home life) Thirty minutes wasted sitting in this stupidly warm classroom that had been labelled a ‘Cooking Class’ - though all we’ve done these four weeks is book work.

I felt a cool wave of sweat run over me and my legs began to burn slightly. I ignored my eczema as Brooke sighed longingly. “I want to, but Queen B would yell at me.” We glanced over to Mrs. Beaman. She was a…plump woman who looked like she had time travelled to the fifties and got too many souvenirs.

I twisted back around to give a nod to the bleach blonde Barbie doll, sitting diagonal from me, her nose glued in her book. Knocking my knuckle against the book’s paper back, I said, “Tell Shelby to do it.” Shelby glanced up at me, then around the table at Rachel and Brooke.

Sensing a challenge, she sat up, sticking her gum wrapper in the book to hold her place. “Do what?” she asked, stretching momentarily. She already had a conniving smile on her face, making her little pixie nose crinkle. I tore a small piece of paper off of the worksheet we were supposed to be doing and threw it at her.

“Throw this at Collin.”

She smirked at me, sticking her tongue out before scanning the room. She asked, “Who’s Collin?”

That made Rachel scoff. “Shelby,” she started with a sigh. “The guy we always talk about - always.” Shelby gave her a blank, indifferent face, fiddling with the crumbled piece of paper in her hands.

Again, Rachel sighed, smiling. “Purple shirt.”

Shelby glanced away to look around one more time. Brooke asked her laughing, “Are you really going to?”

I answered for Shelby with a laugh. “Of course she will. That’s how we became friends - I asked to throw this water bottle at some kid in study hall and she did it.” Shelby smiled big, dumbly proud of herself.

Rachel asked, “Wait. How long have you been friends?”

“Since this morning,” Shelby said with a grin. Rachel and Brooke laughed as Shelby fixed her eyes on someone. She suddenly flung her hand up, chucking the trash straight across from her, saying, “Sorry.” It pelted against someone who was not Colin. It smacked another guy named Drew right on his forehead.

He flinched and just stared at her, mouthing, 'What the fuck?'

It took me a few seconds to realise Drew had on a purple shirt.

“Oh, my fucking God.” I was on the verge of cackling. Shelby looked at me, confused. “Wrong person!” I snapped, my voice faintly giving out.

All three of them widened their eyes and dropped their jaws. While Rachel, Brooke and I let our heads fall onto the table, laughing, Shelby pushed her face into her hands.

“Oh, shit,” she laughed, slapping her hand onto the table. “I’m sorry!” I felt her tap the top of my hand. After calming myself, I looked up at her. She pulled open her purse, getting out a hand mirror. Yeah. She’s one of those girls.

Clicking it open, she asked, “Hey, uhm, what are you doing after school?”

Playing the hard-to-get card, I said, “Why do you want to know?”

Applying some foundation shit or something, she said mockingly, “We’re best friends. We need to hang out.”

‘Best friends.’ We just met today.

I denied her request with a “Can’t,” pulling my bag up from the ground to my lap. She snapped her little make-up container shut and gawked at me.

“Why not?”

I let my smug smile come out. “Ms McClain.”

“You seriously talk to her every day?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Rachel interrupted with, “Who’s Ms McClain?”

“French teacher,” Shelby told her, raising her brow at me. “He’s got the hots for her.”

Using a small hand gesture, I said, “Have you seen her?” Shelby laughed before gesturing to herself.

“Have you seen this?”

My hands clapped together as I laughed at her. I motioned to her chest where her boobs laid out in the open.

“I can see those.”

“What more do you need?” she giggled. “I got it all.”

“As right as you are…” I trailed. “I’d rather see McClain’s boobs than yours.” Shelby sat back and let her mouth hang open. Her retaliation was grabbing my plain-water-filled Propel bottle from me.

I gave her a shrug, eyeing my drink. “Fine,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “Take it. I’m not as thirsty as you.” While Rachel and Brooke laughed, Shelby narrowed her eyes at me.

“Fuck you,” she snapped, twisting off its cap. “You want me. Don’t deny it.”

“Well, obviously!” I watched her take a big sip from my drink and laughed when she grunted, horrified.

“The fuck is this?” she groaned, leaning close to me when she cussed so she could whisper it.

“Water.” I smiled at her. She looked at the label that visibly read ‘Propel,’ then glared at me.

“Thanks for telling me.”

“Welcome.”

She tightened the cap back on and rolled it to me. “Take your shit water and give it to your lover.” So I rolled it back her way. She smiled at me, shaking her head. “I hate you,” she sang out, taking my drink and dropping it in her bag.

“Love you too, babe.”

Brooke snorted, taking her headband off only to put it back on. She mumbled like she usually does as she laughed, “Just date already.”

“Me and McClain? I’m working on it.”

She laughed again, shaking her head. Her eyes shifted between Shelby and I. “No. You two.” She clipped a few bobby pins into her hair. Shelby and I shared disgusted looks.

“Ew.” Shelby tried to be crude, but her toothy smile showed. “Me and him? Never in a mil.”

“Right,” I agreed, returning her smile “I’m trying to stay STD-free, if you don’t mind.” Shelby once again told me how she felt by taking something from me then throwing it at me - my planner. When I caught it smoothly, Shelby stemmed a conversation from what I last said.

“Tyler,” she began innocently, shoving her books into her purse that was larger than a baby panda.

“Yes, love?”

“What was your first impression of me?”

“Slut.” When she gave me a dark gaze, I smirked at her before trying again. I thought back to the first day of school - merely four weeks ago, walking into study hall to be seated by the stereotypical blonde. She sat doing her make-up before the bell rang.

Remembering my exact first thought of her, I still said, “Slut.”

“Oh -” She reached forward to slap my shoulder while Rachel and Brooke snickered yet again. “Fuck you, seriously.”

“What?” I laughed. “I’m not joking. What did you think when you first met me?”

Her eyes flickered up and she grinned.

“Kangaroos.”

-

I walked Shelby to her bus then made a U-turn back towards the school building. I got to room 276 within five minutes and walked through its open door. Ms McClain wasn’t up at the board, erasing something like she typically is. She sat at her desk, clicking around on her computer.

She heard me walk in and glanced up. I waved and she smiled, pointing to an empty seat she had sat right next to her desk. As I dropped down, she greeted me.

“You’re here later than usual.”

“Hello to you, too.” Getting her to smile again, I explained my excuse. I happily said, “I made a new friend.”

“Who?”

“You know that blonde babe I was walking ‘round with after lunch? Her. I walked her to her bus.” A little note, when I call a girl a ‘babe’ it doesn’t always mean I think she’s fit. Growing up, girls have always been referred to as babes - at least in my family. You know…not sheilas. Remember that next time you’re trying to do an Aussie impersonation.

Ms McClain smiled. “Oh.” She turned away to minimise Internet Explorer, facing me when she was done. “Good to see you’re talking to people - other than me.”

My mouth fell open. “What?” I said with fake shock. “You don’t want to be my friend? Then I’ll just leave. Just know, without me, you’ll be old and alone.” This time, her jaw dropped.

“I’m not old, youngster,” she sneered, wiggling her finger at me. “I’ll have you know I’m twenty-two. Not even in my mid-twenties, so suck on that.”

I smiled at her immatureness, then the reason for my smile changed drastically.

“I’m almost eighteen,” I hinted deviously, winking at her. Yeah, eighteen in two years. She instantly laughed, seeming to ignore its meaning.

“And what do you expect me to do with this information?”

Me.

I shrugged. “Just thought I’d tell you.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” she muttered chuckling, shifting in her seat. She changed the subject. “So - how’s life? You know, home?”

Wow. Like I want to go from flirting to…that hell hole.

Again, I shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s fine,” I lied, thinking about the new bruise on my shoulder that yelled at me every time I moved my right arm and the new cut on my hip that burned when I tried to walk.

She saw right through my lie and gave me a look. She urged, “Oh, come on. It’s obviously not okay. You’ll feel better once you talk about it. We’re friends,” she said in a remindful tone. “You can tell me anything.”

Knowing that was utter bullshit, I forced a chuckle.

“I really can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” she pressed, frowning at me. She leaned forward to put her hand on mine briefly. “What’s up?”

“What do you expect me to say?” I asked with another fake laugh. “The truth?”

“That’s what I’m hoping.”

“If it’s the truth, then I can’t.” Really can’t. I thought about my vile night and how badly I wanted to cry to her about it. To anyone. But I knew that if a teacher suspects anything bad is going on in your home, they can tell authorities and have you taken away. That wouldn’t help anything.

Though, she probably already suspects something, but hasn’t said anything to anyone else. Still, I refused to tell her. It was embarrassing.

McClain furrowed her brows at me. “Why not? Tyler, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing - we can talk about my mum,” I suggested, mostly because we’d just talk about how I felt, not her ties with my house. Ms McClain took a few seconds to give me a cautious look, but nodded.

“Alright.” She sat back in a more comfortable position. “How have you been?”

I slouched back and sighed, suddenly not wanting to talk about her either, but talking about my deceased mother was somewhat better than my dick of a father and his cunt girlfriend. “Fine,” I lied for a second time. Knowing that wasn’t enough for her, I continued. “It’s weird not having her here, but…she’s happy now, I think.”

“But how are you?”

Nowhere near being happy.

“I’m fine,” I said vaguely again. Picking up that I wasn’t going to shift to a different fake emotion, she let my feelings go. Sort of.

“You don’t resent her for leaving you like that?”

I hated her for leaving me in that house, basically all alone. Sure, I had Ellie and Damien, but they were nothing compared to her. And not only that, but the fact that she took that exit route…she might as well have killed me too. Was I not important enough to her, like she was to me? Was I that easy to forget and leave?

Maybe I had something to do with it. She never fully explained her motive prior to it happening. It was just an eight letter note, then - bam - she was gone.

“Sometimes,” - I came down from thought, shrugging - “but, like I said, she wasn’t happy before. Hopefully she is now. I can’t get terribly mad at her for ending something that depressed her so much that she would even think to kill herself over - and worse, actually go through with it.”

Ms McClain had this look on her face. She stared at me in what I believed to be respect, though it probably wasn’t that at all. She whispered thoughtfully, “You’re so mature.” In her normal tone, she added, “You - hopefully - aren’t blaming yourself too much for it. You see her side and respect her for her decisions. It’s not an easy thing to do, but you fake it pretty well.”

She smiled lightly at me, so I let myself smile back. I honestly wasn’t feeling like I deserved to smile. I did blame myself, no matter how many times I had people tell me over the past three months that I had no part in her suicide. I knew she wouldn’t leave me like that unless I was part of the problem.

McClain and I talked until forty after three, then she drove me home, like she normally does.

Hesitantly pushing open the front door, I peeled off my drawstring backpack. The house was quiet. I suspected no one to be home, but then the light buzz of Tegan and Sara told me Ellie was home, locked in her room. If she’s home, I’m assuming Damien was too, also tucked away in his room, probably sleeping.

But no dad or his girlfriend.

I went to my room and shoved open its closed door. I praised the heavens when I looked on my bed and didn’t see Vanessa sitting there. She does that sometimes. It’s freaky. Instead I got Baby sleeping soundly. Not wanting to wake her, I slowly shut my door behind me.

Kicking off my shoes, I hopped briefly to my computer chair, and sat down. I leaned back and sighed into my hands.

So far so good.

But just because I survived the first five minutes in this house after school seemingly unscathed didn’t mean tonight would let me wake up tomorrow morning without having something I was dying to blab to someone about, but couldn’t.

My heart skipped a few beats at the familiar sound of the front door being opened. I expected my door to be flung open and someone I didn’t want to see would be standing on the other side, but received silence.

Relief overwhelmed me when the rest of the afternoon went without a single interruption. I was able to work on homework until about six before my door was finally pushed open.

Ellie stood in the doorway with a smile on her face.

“What?” I asked cautiously. She twirled in circles to fall onto my bed. My dog's head came up to blink at her before she dropped it back down. Scratching her behind her ears - Baby’s favourite - Ellie told me ‘what.’

“That girl you were talking to today - Shelby - I’m messaging her on Facebook right now.”

“How’d that happen?”

“She messaged me about you - like, where you were, but you weren’t here, so we just kind of talked.” She had a big smile and aimed it right at me. “I think we’ve got some chemicals goin’ right now.” My head jerked up and I laughed.

“She’s…a lesbian? Or…?”

Ellie finished my sentence with a shake to her head. “Bi,” she confirmed, biting her nails. “And totally into me. We’re gonna date, I think.”

I was instantly plagued with guilt. Fuck. Shelby and I made out in the bathroom during lunch and a few more times during the rest of the day. Gah. And yet, I smiled at Ellie’s grinning face.

“Well, good on ya. Am I invited to the wedding?”

“Bride’s maid,” she smirked, sitting up. “Reno, Las Vegas. Be there or be square.” She started towards my door, saying, “Just came in here to tell you so you wouldn’t be shocked by me suddenly dating your friend.”

“Thanks for that.”

“Mmhmm.” She stopped from shutting my door to say, “I’ll probably come in here tonight.”

In mock excitement, I said in a cliché Aussie voice, “Ace!” Ellie grinned before winking at me.

“See ya then, mate.”

-

I flopped back down on my bed, ignoring my dad as he yelled at me from the living room. Too much of a bludger to get up, obviously. I knew he’d eventually storm into my room with some other dumb chore I ‘needed’ to do soon, so I took advantage of the temporary silence and napped until the time came.

And no, this isn’t why I hate him heaps. We’ll get to that later.

As if on cue, after several minutes passed, the dreaded man shouted to me from the living room.

“Tyler - once you’re done doing nothing, how about you do the laundry!”

I took out my phone and texted him the emoji of a purple eggplant.

His response was ‘are you fucking kidding me.’

I laughed to myself evilly. It’s always fun messing with him until he finally gets fed up enough and marches in here with a whiffle ball bat. Thankfully that didn’t happen and I got to give into drowsiness and fell asleep not to be woken again until about eleven that night.

My eyes opened at the low creak of my door being pushed ajar. I waited for the bed to shift as Vanessa - or, even worse, him - sat down, but waited for nothing.

I heard a hushed whisper.

“Tyler?”

Recognising the voice, I turned over to see Ellie standing in the doorway. When I tuned back over, tightening my blanket over my head, she knew what to do and closed the door as she came into my room. The room went back to being near pitch black. I heard her shuffle over then clank her toe against the edge of the bed.

She cried out, falling flat on her face, landing half on me and half on Baby. Baby yelped at her; I shoved my sister off me.

“Every night,” I muttered scornfully at her. I felt her push her middle finger against my face as she crawled into bed.

Now why is she here? Why does she come sleep in my room nearly every night?

Him.

If either of us sleep alone, we wake to him. Every time. It’s either him or his girl, Vanessa. They’re both sick, I swear it.

Our biggest wonder is why doesn’t he do the same to Damien. He’s the gay one. Not that that would make it any better, but he goes after the straight guy and lesbian while his girlfriend only goes after me; not the lesbian. It doesn’t make sense.

But, in some weird, twisted way, this piss situation made Ellie and I closer as sibs. Strange, I know.

We slept soundly through half the night. Then two a.m. rolled around.

I awoke to my name being whispered again. “Tyler?” There was a nudge against my shoulder. I groggily opened my eyes to see a dark outline. Staring longer, I knew it was a girl. It slowly came to me that it was Vanessa.

I grumbled out, “What?”

She grabbed for my wrist, murmuring, “Get up.” I thought of Ellie, sleeping tangled in the bundle of sheets. If I left her, he’ll come get her. Once I had gotten up in the middle of the night to wee; when I left, she was sleeping like a log, came back and she wasn’t there anymore. I had to bite through her reiteration the next morning.

The words 'He raped me!' kept flashing into my mind and I wanted hurl.

Second reason to fight and kick to stay in my own bed, I was bloody tired. I wasn’t up for what she had in mind. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to be left alone. I wanted to get through a day without feeling like I was on the verge of passing out.

El would wind up being the one who gets her ear bashed by me tomorrow if I gave into Vanessa.

I softly tugged my arm away from her, bringing it under my chin to rest on. “No,” I whined sleepily. “Please? I’m knackered, V. Absolutely rooted.” She didn’t seem to care. I felt something next to me move. It was Ellie shifting into a new position. Finding a comfortable one, she sighed loudly. Vanessa’s eyes darted to the blob that was Ellie, then at me.

“I need you,” she snapped. “Get up.”

“V,” I said again, shaking my head though I doubted she could see me in the dark. Desperate to sleep in my bed without her, I started to bargain. “Tomorrow?”

She was silent, making me think she was considering my feelings for once, but she started to shake her head.

“No. Now.”

My heart had been pounding my chest since I woke up. Now it was up in my ears. I didn’t want to move, and give her what she wanted, but knew I wasn’t going to sleep tonight if I didn’t. I reluctantly slouched off my bed, moving Baby so she was resting over Ellie. If he tried to take her, Baby would bark. Hopefully I’d hear and stop him.

Vanessa groaned at me impatiently, grabbing onto my arm. I followed her out of my room and into the basement. She closed the door behind us, sealing my fate of another restless night.

I wish she had never came into this house. Since day one, she’s been ruining my life; two years of her almost nightly. I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in two years. That's fuckin' ridiculous. But there’s nothing I can do to stop her. No one would ever believe me if I told, because ‘if I really wanted her to stop, I would’ve made her by now; she’s the girl, I’m the guy. I outrank her.’

That’s kind of hard to follow up on when she has you a gun point.

The night seemed to drag on, but soon she was satisfied and I got to slump my way back upstairs. I was pleased to see Ellie was still there, snoring lightly with her arm draped over Baby’s head. Trying not to wake either of them, I went to the foot of the bed to crawl back into my preferred spot to stay the night at. I caught sight of my bedside clock and its time.

It was nearing three, closing on two. I had to be up in an hour and the last thing I wanted to do was wake up.

I couldn’t fall asleep, anyway, and laid in bed, thinking about how pathetic I was to let that scrawny excuse of a woman take advantage of me like that. The more I thought about it the more my skin ached for me to rip it open, but my blades were under Ellie’s side of the mattress. As a substitute, I took a thumbtack down from the corkboard I had placed above my side of the bed. I lifted my shirt and lightly poked its sharp edge repeatedly against my ribcage, but it wasn’t enough.

I soon gave up, making a promise to myself that I would try again tomorrow.

-

Failing to see I hadn’t slept all night, Ellie woke me up regardless. While she got changed, I blabbed to her about Vanessa.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” she asked after a long pause. Her brows were making creases on her forehead, her eyes looking sad. I shrugged, putting on my jacket.

“You were sleeping.”

“So? That’s why we sleep in the same room together - so this won’t happen.” Pulling her long black hair into a high ponytail, she made her way over to me, sitting beside me on the bed. “You’ll be alright?”

Nope.

“Yeah.”

“You swear it?”

“Ellie,” I started to laugh, getting up. “I’ll be fine. This isn’t the first time.” I pulled on my bag and checked the time on my iPod. “We should go,” I said, shoving it back in my pocket.

She looked at me for a few seconds before getting up, as well. She muttered, “Yeah,” making her way to the door. “I’m gonna get some water from the fridge - you want one?”

Needing an opportunity to be alone for a few seconds, I nodded.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Welcome, boo.” And with that, she walked out to the kitchen. I took this time to stick my hand between the mattress and bedframe, pulling the little memory card container from it. In it was about ten or so blades I’ve collected since I was ten, I’d say.

I slipped it into my front pocket and turned for the living room. The third twin of the household, Damien, laid on the couch, head tipped back over the arm, eyes shut. If I hadn’t of known any better, perhaps I would’ve thought it was me sprawled out on the sofa. The only real difference between us was the big scar I unfortunately had, but he was free from. Other minuscule details like our hair - his being near his ears and mine going to my chin - or our eyes would completely slip your mind.

Wanting to sit down, I kicked the bottom of his foot. His icy blue eyes shot open to glare at me.

“Oh, fuck off,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut again. I grabbed him by his ankles and dragged him off the couch, but after a loud squeal, he gripped onto a cushion. “Tyler - stop!”

“Just move so I can sit down.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Would you two stop that?” Ellie hollered over Damien’s loud yelling. We both looked up and saw her walking into the living room, two Propels in her hands. She chucked one of them at me, hissing, “Here, dipshit.”

“Thanks, dear.”

She slipped on her shoes she always took off by the couch and pulled open the front door. She told us to hurry or we’d miss the bus, and left out the door without us. I finished ripping Damien off the couch before following behind her. He landed on the ground with an ‘oompf!’

I guess I’ll tell you that our dad wasn’t home right now; he had to be at work by four, and Vanessa is the heaviest sleeper ever, so she’ll wake up around noon then leave to go to the grog shop for my dad, then come home to either torment me or sleep some more.

I was with Damien and Ellie for about ten minutes of morning walk around before I went up to McClain’s room and chatted with her.

I seriously talk to her every day. I wasn’t joking.

We talked about the usual things. I even asked her about herself - I always do, so our conversations aren’t so one-sided.

I gave a look to the clock and saw I had about five minutes before the first bell rang, and turned to McClain to say I had to use the restroom. She told me not too fall in and I left the room with a pity laugh.

I jogged down the stairs and continued on straight down the Maths hall, taking a left to get to the boys’ bathroom. I didn’t think anyone was in here, but when I went to pull open a stall door, the one next to it opened after a flush of the toilet.

I didn’t really know who he was, but I’ve seen him around. He’s cute, I’ll give him that. I shall call him Fabio. After giving him an awkward hello, I entered the stall, locking its door. Because the seats are gross and I didn’t come in here to pee or poo, I stood, digging into my front pocket. For a split second, I couldn’t find the little memory card container, and had a small panic attack. Thankfully I did find it just as Fabio turned on the sink faucet.

Carefully, I opened the container, hoping to not drop any blades. I took a few seconds to look amongst all sharp objects, picking one of the new stainless steel razor blades. I liked it because it was the sharpest of them all and made really clean cuts. I closed the container and set it on the toilet paper dispenser. I pulled up my left sleeve and stared down at my arm.

All the times I’ve fucked up stared back up at me, leaving almost no space to show my success. I tipped my eyes up to see the tattoo inked under the start of my inner elbow. I got it after my mum killed herself.

It was her suicide note: I’m sorry baby. Be good! I love you!

My stomach tightened and I could feel tears filling up my eyes.

Why did she have to go? This isn’t fair.

Finding a moderately clean spot, I pushed the blade against it. There was a sharp sting. Just that alone made small specks of blood come up. If I pressed down any harder, I was sure it’d start gushing.

I took my time dragging it several inches across my forearm, watching the skin separate and fill with bright blood. Needing more, I moved the blade directly under the new cut and did the same, deeper this time.

Too deep.

A huge jolt of pain shot through my arm and for a moment, I lost grip of the blade. It fell in slow motion, landing with a jingle on the bathroom floor. It didn’t stop there. It flopped a few feet before skidding under the stall door…just as Fabio turned to walk away. I saw his shadow stop dead in its tracks right in front of the razor blade.

My heart plummeted into my stomach.

Please tell me he didn’t see that.

I heard him crouch down and saw his hand stretch for it. He carefully picked it up. There was a few second of silence before he held his hand under the gap of the stall door, the blade in his palm. I slowly reached for it and took it from him.

I didn’t expect him to say anything, but he said softly, “Whatever it is you’re going through…it’s not worth doing that. Whatever it is, it’ll pass. I promise.”

I didn’t respond, so he didn’t say anything back. He stood back up and shuffled out of the restroom.

I stood there mutely.

Well, good thing I never see him. Just during lunch.

Now that I said that, I feel like I’ll be seeing him everywhere now. Lovely. I soon grew tired of being in shock and went back up to McClain’s room, beating the bell.

Like a boss.