He never mentioned it to me. Then again, when would he? In between bouts of helping my therapist fix my post-traumatic issues? Or while defiling poor Dr. Smith’s pristine cancer research lab? What about while you two were getting busy on top of me? The bench in front of my locker asks. It’s been calling me a slut for two weeks. You know what you did. I turn away. First you disgrace me, then you ignore me. Jesus.
This whole bench conversation has me cracking up
