“You have an exam to get to,” I remind her. “So why don’t you finish what you started and then we’ll head on out.” She blinks a couple times. “What-what are you talking about?” “Finish up and then we’ll leave,” I repeat, unwilling to clarify. She has to admit it herself. “I’m done, so can you hand me that towel?” “You’re done?” “Yeah.” “Are you sure?” “I don’t smell like garbage anymore, so I call it a bathing success.” “Maybe you misunderstood me,” I say dryly. “Finish fucking yourself.”
