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that’s what outcasts do: we watch from the shadows, cataloging details about the normal people.
In true Blake fashion, he remained either completely oblivious to his effect on the female population or just supremely uninterested. This was the same guy who’d once asked me, with genuine confusion, why women kept finding reasons to bring him coffee in the hospital cafeteria. As if his face alone wasn’t a walking invitation for cardiac episodes.
Our friendship operated on its own frequency where casual death threats translated to I love you, but you just seriously angered me, and we both knew the difference.
Thirty minutes later, they arrived, looking like what they were: dangerous men dragged from sleep, running on loyalty and caffeine.
