He had his arms crossed as he sat against the wall, his ears flicking beneath his winter hat as he looked around at the others. His bat sat besides him, some of the nails in it being bent and broken due to how hard he swings. For someone his size, he’s a heavy hitter. .

He looks back around at the others. Pony, Zizzy, the twins. . His friends are here, yet, his family is not. . His sister isn’t here. He misses her, a lot.

“Stupid infection. . I swear, if I ever get my hands on Mr P, I’ll-” He stopped himself. No. . He wouldn’t be any better than Mr P if he did kill him. He’d be just as bad. But still. . .