You sigh, laid out on your stomach. The pages of books you’ve read over and over, time and time again becoming bleak. It’s boring. There’s nothing to do, either.

You slam your book shut with a huff, the nearby blonde, 13 year old boy shifts his gaze to you. He frowns, looking down to the book, then back to you.

“What’s your deal?” Wesker asks, his hand holding his own book open.