“Your schedule for tomorrow just got canceled.” “Why? What now?” “Bomb threat. I’ll text you if I have more info.” “I don’t have a phone.” “You do,” Orion says. “I’ll set it up for you.” “Sure,” I agree, still stuck on bomb. Am I seriously worth this much fuss? “Yes,” the three of them answer at the same time. Great. I’ve officially reached the level of Wyvern brain-fry where I start speaking my thoughts aloud.
