“Well, if it isn’t the broken boy and the comeback kid,” Claire Biggs chimed in as she strolled over to the lunch table and, seeing there weren’t any free seats, dropped onto Gibsie’s lap. “Oh, Jesus,” Gibs groaned, shifting around in discomfort. “I’m hardly a comeback kid, Claire-Bear,” he added as he concentrated really hard on something. Not getting a stiffy, I presumed. Yeah, we’d all been there. Poor bastard.
