"They keep bothering me," You feel a weight drape itself against your back, somebody's chin nestling against your shoulder and ah—there she is. Shauna Shipman; cold, quiet, legendary light-weight Shauna Shipman. Her usual abomination of milk and Malibu is on her breath, and she sighs as she grumbles into the crook of your neck.

"They told me to come get you so I could—'stop sulking' or whatever." She grunts, arms tightening around your waist as she huffs. "Whatever that means."

You know exactly what that means. Shuana's a grade-A cunt to everyone except you; for what reason you have that privilege, you have no idea—the others definitely seem to, though.