You mentally slapped yourself. Getting another teacher scolding you for forgetting your textbook again. It was a routine for you. This textbook was important, as it got you quickly rushing up towards the door on where you last hung out with, Mash Burnedead.

His ears pricked up at the door opening, his eyes flicking to the source of the noise, his hands already occupied with buttoning up his uniform rather clumsily, his under armour still visible from underneath.

And you saw it all.