A-random-story-that-doesn’t-have-a-title-yet-and-is-kinda-Maximum-Rideish-plus-Annie



Cheeeapter Uno:

I sighed heavily, as I gazed out the window. Having time to myself was rare, and I was savoring every moment of this. I crossed my arms as I listened to the steady ticking of the clock. 3, 2, 1. It chimed 10:00pm. Now it was official: I’d been at the orphanage, I mean group home, for 11 years. They always called it a group home, but we all knew what it really was. An orphanage. I sighed again. Only one more year and I could leave completely. Leaving behind Jenna and Darwin and Grayson. And Kyle...
Suddenly, I felt another presence in the once empty room. I spun around and there he was. Kyle. Speak of the Devil...
“What are you doing here?” I hissed. He only cocked his head grinning with that smile of his.
“Why do you care?” He retorted, leaning in the door frame. “Where were you at dinner Red?” He asked. “We missed you.”
We? Who was we? Jenna? Kyle had barely said 2 words to her in the 8 years he’d been there. Now he was paring them together? No way. Jenna was my sister. Well, sort of...
“I wasn’t hungry,” I replied, “and my name’s Margaret. I thought I’ve told you not to call me Red.”
Kyle shrugged. “Yeah. What’s your point?” With that, he turned, and began to walk away. “Oh, Lamoreaux’s wants to talk to you.” He said over his shoulder.
Lamoreaux always wanted to talk to me. Why couldn’t she get someone else to be her personal maid for the evening once and awhile? Just because I was the oldest at the orphanage, didn’t mean I had to be the one to change diapers and clean up messes. As I headed towards the door, my figure caught my eye in the full length mirror. I stepped closer to it, and examined myself. I picked up a chunk of my dark, shoulder length, auburn hair and examined it. God. Absolutely pathetic. I leaned closer. Were those more freckles? I swear, they hadn’t been there yesterday. Yes, I was quite the attractive one, that was for sure.
“I’d hurry,” I heard Kyle say as he walked by the room, yet again. “she seems pretty pissed.”
God, what was with him? “I’m coming,” I muttered, face flushing. That boy had impeccable timing.” Unfortunately.”
I stood in front of Lamoreaux’s bedroom. It was pretty quiet. Most of the little kids seemed to be asleep. Mr. Lamoreaux was probably in his study, or at some bar. He seemed to take every opportunity he could to get away from his wife. Or maybe us. Sometimes it’s hard to tell.
“Mar’et,” She called. “’where are ya!?”
“I’m right here,” I replied, smoothing down my hair and adjusting my ridiculously baggy sweater.
“Ge’yur ass in ‘ere then,”
“I’m coming.” I repeated, opening the door. “Yeah?”
“Where the hell were ya” Lamoreaux slurred, obviously drunk. “ya ‘kept me waitin’,” She paused, to take another swig of the whiskey bottle she was holding in her left hand. “ya kept me waitin’ fur 10 minutes.”
“I’m sorry,I was busy.” I nervously fingered the hem of my sweater. Millicent Lamoreaux was extremely intimidating normally. Drunk, she was 10 times worse. I scrutinized her laying there on the bed. Face red and shiny, eyes bloodshot, clothes completely disheveled, graying hair unkempt. Lamoreaux was a complete wreak.
“Whatca standin’ ‘dere fur?” She asked, voice steadily rising, as she waved the bottle around. “’Gimme more booze!”
Nodding, I quickly rushed out of the room. Denying Millicent alcohol was suicide. I flung open the refrigerator door, and began pulling out bottle after bottle.
“Mar’et!” Lamoreaux screamed. “What’s takin’ ya so long?”
“I’m coming!” I called back, frantically picking up all Calvert, Schenley's and Black Velvet I could carry.
“Mar’et!”
I hadn’t expected her to call my name again. I dropped 3 bottles, and cried out as they shattered on the ground, the contents splashing up onto me.
“What de hell is goin’ on ‘ere?” Lamoreaux flung open the door, and stumbled clumsily towards me.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Before I could finish, her hand came down in an agonizing blow to my cheek. I bit my lip, knowing if I made any sound, she’d only hit me again.
“Leave her alone,”
I looked up, cheek throbbing. Kyle stood in the entrance of the dark kitchen. What the hell was he doing? Was he that stupid as to interfere with Lamoreaux’s drunken stupor?
“’Wha’ ya say tur me?” She roared, pushing me out of the way, staggering towards Kyle.
“I told you to leave her alone.” Kyle repeated, not sounding as confident this time. For a split second, fear flickered across his icy blue eyes.
I could see the outline of Jenna’s slender figure pressed against the wall of the hallway. Why did she feel the need to watch this? Seven year olds definitely didn’t need to see their older sister’s get the crap beat out of them. I was 8 years older than her, and I was supposed to be her rock, her hero. Not allow a drunken 47 year old woman slap me around. I stood, and slunk out of the room, leaving Kyle to hold his own.
“Are you okay?” Jenna whispered, reaching out a hand to touch my swelling cheek.
“I’m fine,” I lied. I hated lying to her. Although, that was completely hypocritical. I’d been lying to Jenna all her life. Telling her this and that about the life we never even had together. How she hasn’t figured out the truth yet is beyond me.
Just then, a crash echoed throughout the entire kitchen, interrupting my thoughts. It was followed by some extracolourful language from Lamoreaux and Kyle alike, and another crash. That was it, Kyle was supposed to be helping the situation, not making it worse.
“Just go back to bed,” I told Jenna. She looked at me with wide eyes. “I have to make sure Kyle’s alright. I’ll be fine.” I didn’t understand why I suddenly cared what happened to him. For 8 years, he’d been making my life even more of a living hell than it already was. Red this, Red that. Making snide remarks, offering to help...okay, I get it I have issues. For some strange reason, I hate giving up any of my responsibilities, no matter how crappy they might be. I can handle myself. Him standing up for me tonight just reminded how much I loathed Kyle.
“No.” Jenna said firmly. “I have to make sure, you’re alright.”
I sighed, ”Jenna...”
She didn’t let me finish. “Margaret, I’m not going to bed.”
Another crash rang out, followed by Kyle cursing loudly for the hundredth time.
I gave Jenna’s shoulder a quick squeeze, before stepping into the kitchen again. I was immediately aware of what was going on. Lamoreaux and Kyle were throwing whiskey bottles at each other. The last one appeared to have clipped Kyle’s shoulder. He was grasping, his face twisted in pain.
“Ha!” Lamoreaux roared. “’Dat’s wha’ ya get fur messin’ wit me!” All of a sudden, she appeared to have noticed me back in the room. “Mar’et,” She took a sip on the bottle in her hand, finishing it off. “Kyle and ya are gonna spend ‘da rest of ‘da night in ‘da cellar!” With that, she chucked the bottle in our general direction.
Kyle flinched, obviously wary from the pervious offense. Oddly, I felt somewhat sympathetic. I instantly replaced the feeling with hostility. It was his fault I was spending the night in the cellar with the rats and roaches and ugh...Kyle.
“Let’s go,” Millicent grabbed each of us roughly by the arm, and dragged us towards the cellar door. “’ave a good night!” She cooed, making my skin crawl. Yes, my life really was great.

Cheeeapter Duo:

I sat hugging my knees. This was worse than I remembered. The last time I’d been sentenced to “night in the cellar” was when I was 8 years old. I had been caught out of bed after lights out. I sighed. Man, it was dark. I couldn’t even see my own hand several inches from my face.
“Red?” I heard Kyle’s voice resound throughout the entire cellar.
“Just shut up,” I said. “I’m serious. Leave me alone. This is your fault I’m down here, just leave me the hell alone.”
“PMS much,” He said. I could just picture him grinning. That alone upped my POed level to a six, on a level of one to five. Thank you Kyle.
“I said leave me alone,” I lay down on the cold, cement floor. My cheek was throbbing, and I wasn’t exactly looking forward to seeing what kind of bruise Lamoreaux’s blow had produced.
“Suit yourself.” Kyle muttered quietly. I him heard yawn, and move around a bit, then it was quiet, except for our breathing.
I must have drifted off for awhile, because I was awaken by something brushing my arm. I screamed, and hit whatever it was as hard as I could.
“Ah!” Kyle cried, “What was that for?!”
I’d had no idea how close he’d been to me. A warm flush spread across my face.
“God, Margaret, that was my freakin’ shoulder.”
His shoulder? Though I knew I should be feeling guilty for causing him even more pain, but I was extremely satisfied. Yes, I’m a sadistic person. Deal with it. “What were you doing?”
“I was sleeping.”
“That close to me?”
He didn’t say anything for a long time. I’d thought Kyle had fallen back asleep, until he sighed loudly. “I’m sorry, okay? Sorry for getting you thrown down here, and sorry for sleeping so close to you. I know you hate me. I’ll just shut up. I’m sorry.”
“I-I don’t hate you,” I said, sitting up. “well not right now anyway. We might as well get along, considering we’re stuck here ‘till morning.”
Kyle laughed softly. “More like ‘till Lamoreaux actually remembers we’re down here.”
I grinned. He was right. This wouldn’t be the first time Ms. Lamoreaux had forgotten about people in the cellar. “How long do you think we’ve been down here?” I asked.
Kyle sat up, and positioned himself so that he was sitting back to back with me. It sent a chill up my spin. “Probably close to five hours or so.”
“Mmm,” I murmured. “That’s not very long.”
“Well at least your not here alone,” He said.
I had to agree with him on that one. Even though I hated Kyle with a passion, it was better being locked up with him than being alone.
“So...” Kyle asked it as a question, more than a statement. Crap.
“Yeah?” I asked, hesitantly.
“I dunno,” He replied. “we don’t have to sit here in silence do we?”
The way he said that made my heart skip a beat. What was wrong with me? I’d never felt this way around Kyle before. But then again, I’d never been locked up in a cellar with him until tonight. “I never said that.”
“I know,” Kyle said, moving closer to me. I could feel the warmth of his back straight though my think sweater. It went all the way to my toes, and was like nothing I’d ever felt before. “Red?” He asked.
“Yeah?” It was pretty much a lost cause. Kyle would always call me Red. There was nothing I could do to change that.
“How did you end up here?”
“Uh, I dropped Lamoreaux’s whiskey,” I replied. “You were there. You saw it.”
Kyle laughed. “No, I meant here. The orphanage. I mean group home.”
It was my turn to laugh. Kyle had said group home in such a mocking way, for a moment, I almost liked him. Almost. “My parents died. Simple as that. What about you?”
“My parents died too,” He replied quickly. I could tell he wasn’t actually telling the entire story. “How did your parents die?”
“In a fire,” I said quietly, resting my chin on my knees. “I was the only one to survive. My sister...” I sighed. I didn’t want to say it. I always go so emotional, and around Kyle, I couldn’t be like that. Ever.
“Jenna?” He asked. I could sense a hint of amusement in his voice.
“Kyle, shut up. You know we’re not really related.” I sneered.
“Margaret, you can’t lie to Jenna her entire life.”
“I haven’t been,” I protested. “I mean, won’t. I’ll tell her eventually.”
“What, on her wedding day while your giving a toast?” Kyle asked. Did he have to be so sarcastic? “It’ll break her heart, Red.”
“I know.”
“Why don’t you tell her then?”
“I can’t,” I said. “I’m the only family she has.”
“Margaret, a drunk monkey could tell your not related. You look nothing alike. She’s tall and skinny and...” His voice trailed off. “Crap, that came out wrong.”
“Gee, thanks.” I replied, snidely.
“I didn’t actually mean that. You’re actually kinda pretty.”
Pretty? Had I heard that right? Kyle thought I was pretty? As in like, me? “Pretty?” My voice caught in my throat.
“Yeah. Kinda.”
“Oh,” I said. I was glad it was dark. I couldn’t remember the last time I’m blushed this much.
“So you were the only one to survive the fire huh?” I could tell Kyle was anxious to change the topic.
“Yeah. So what about you? How’d your parents die?”
“Uh, I’m not really sure. Drug overdose I think.”
“How old were you?” I asked. He definitely wasn’t telling me something.
“Six,” He said. “How old were you?”
“Four. Hey, if you were six, you went to school, right?”
“Yeah. I only made it through half of first grade though.” Kyle replied. “Wait a sec. If you were four, then you didn’t go to school. How did you learn to read and stuff?”
“When I first came here,” I began. “There was an older girl named Tammy. She was 15 I think. Anyway, she taught me how to read and write.”
“That’s cool.” Kyle exhaled deeply. “Do you miss your parents?”
I hesitated. Honestly, I’d never really thought about that. “Yeah. I do. Especially on days like this,” I said. “I’ve been here for 11 years now.”
I felt him move, and seconds later, his arm was around my shoulder. “It’s okay Red. Your not the only one.”
My brain had pretty much stopped processing thoughts as soon as his arm had come in contact with my shoulder. What was I supposed to do? The obvious: I simply shrugged his arm off, and moved away from him, just like the loving person I am. “What time is it, do you think?”
“It’s only been like 20 minutes since you last asked me,” He replied. “Just be patient.”
I groaned. “This is the longest night ever.”
“It could be,” Kyle said, moving closer to me. “Or, you could actually talk to me.”
“I have been talking to you.”
“Yeah...yeah, true.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek. “So, uh...”
“Yeah?”
“Do you miss your parents?” I asked. I wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to respond, and braced myself for the worst.
“No. I...mmm. No. I don’t want to talk about it.” He said flatly.
“Fair enough,” I said, laying down again.
“Would you kill me if I slept here?”
“Only maim,” I said, smiling. As he lay beside me, I swear I could see his blue eyes, those haunting blue eyes, flash.
The next time I awoke, there was light coming in from under the door, allowing me to see the silhouettes of several objects. Then, I suddenly realized, I was curled up beside Kyle, his arm around my shoulder. In my defense, it was pretty cold down there, and it was complete instinct. Not my fault at all. I pushed Kyle’s arm off me and scrambled to stand up.
“Wha...Red, what’s up?”
“I think it’s morning.”
He groaned and sat up, running a hand though his hair. “Yeah, I think so. Quiet for a sec...yeah. It’s probably early morning though. Like, 6 or something.”
“We have an hour to go,” I said, sitting again. “What now?”
Kyle grinned. “You could come back over here,”
“Pervert,” I said, glaring at him as I crawled further away.
“I didn’t say anything!” He protested. “What’s your problem?”
“It was implied,” I said. “You have to read between the lines.”
Kyle sighed. “Well, what do you want to do?”
“Get out of the cellar.”
“You and I both,” He said, nodding. “but, that’s not exactly what I meant.”
I stood again, and walked towards the door. I pressed my ear against it, and listened. Yeah, Kyle was right. It was definitely early morning. Nobody seemed to be awake yet. I turned, and slide down the door, resting my back against it. I didn’t know how much more of this I could take.
“Red,” Kyle said, out of the blue. “Any particular reason why your name’s Margaret?”
“Uh, excuse me?” I scoffed.
“It’s such an, I dunno. An old school name. Have you always been called Margaret, or did you acquire it when you came here?”
“Margaret’s always been my name,” I replied.
“What about your last name?”
“I...” Hmm. I frowned. I couldn’t remember my last name! It was like something from another lifetime. “I don’t remember.” I admitted.
“Really?” Kyle asked, seemingly surprised. “My last name’s...uh...” He hesitated for a minute. “It’s something like Roberts or Robertson, or something like that.”
“Oh. So did you have any siblings?”
“No. I was an only child,” He replied. “Well, that I know of.”
“My sister, the one that died...” I closed my eyes. “She was only a few months old. I-I probably could have saved her. But I didn’t.” My voice faltered. There. Now he knew the truth. The one thing I was afraid of admitting, and Kyle of all people knew it.
I felt his arms around me, whispering it was alright to cry. Yeah right. I pushed him away, and lay back down on the cold, cement floor. There was no way I was going to cry.

Cheeeapter Tre:

It was close to another hour or so later when we heard someone fumbling with the doorknob. I stood up, and Kyle motioned for me to shut up. The scratching continued for another minute or so, before the door swung open.
“Sorry that took so long. Lamoreaux replaced the lock again. I had to improvise.”
I grinned. “Grayson!” Grayson. The one 13 year old with absolutely no schooling past kindergarten, yet can hack into any computer and pick any lock.
“Dude, you are the man.” Kyle said, pounding Grayson’s fist.
“Lamoreaux’s nursing her hangover,” Grayson explained, pocketing the plastic fork he’d used to pick the lock. “So she’s still asleep.”
“Grayson, you’re a lifesaver,” Kyle went on. “we’d have never gotten out of there without you.”
“Yes we would have,” I muttered under my breath. “Thanks Gray.”
“Uh-huh.” He replied. Grayson had never really been the talkative type. You’d be lucky to get more than 5 or 6 words out of him at a time.
I proceeded back towards the room I shared with Sabra, Jenna, Aendy and Ms.Thinks-she’s-so-great-and-the-world-revolves-around-her. Also known as Veronica. The 12 year old blonde who’s already taller, prettier and packing way more attitude than I ever had, or ever will have. I sighed. I just couldn’t wait to hear what sarcastic remark she had in store for me.
“Margaret!” Jenna jumped off her bed and ran towards me.
“Hey Jenna,” I said softly, stroking her chestnut hair.
“Oh god,” Veronica said, walking up to us. “What were you doing with Kyle down there?” She asked, crossing her arms.
“You mean my bruise?” I asked, my face flushing as she mentioned Kyle’s name.
“Duh. What happened?”
“Lamoreaux hit me.”
“Oh...” I could tell she had run out of things to asked me. Either that, or she felt bad. Ooh, scratch that. This is Veronica.
“How bad is it?” I asked Jenna.
“Um...well...remember when we picked those blueberries that one time?” She asked.
I nodded.
“Well it’s the same colour of purple. Plus a little bit of red. Like Ms. Lamoreaux’s red sweater. There’s also some yellow. Like Veronica’s hair.”
“The word is blonde.” Veronica sneered.
“Veronica...” I said sharply.
“Margaret, your here!” Sabra squealed, running into the room, her dark hair streaming behind her. I noticed Aendy slink in after her. “Holy crap, what did you do?”
“Lamoreaux slapped me,” I repeated for the millionth time.
“Awww, are you okay?”
“Um, I think so.”
Sabra looked at me for a second. “I saw Kyle.”
“Congratulations,” Veronica said, rolling her eyes. “We’re happy for you. Really.”
I glared at Veronica, before turning back to Sabra. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. His shoulder was all bloody and stuff.” She picked a piece of lint off the arm on her sweater. “Is he okay?”
“Kyle’s fine. I promise.” I looked over at Aendy. She was sitting quietly on her bed. “Aend, you okay?” I asked, sitting beside her.
Aendy shrugged. She was worse than Grayson was, and not as useful when your locked in a cellar, for example. And, much more emo. That is, if 8 year old girls can be emo.
“She was worried about you,” Sabra prompted. Aendy and Sabra were like Jenna and I. Though more like friends. Sometimes, I wished we could be like that, and I’d never lied to Jenna. Then everything would be normal.
I patted Aendy on the back, then stood. “What day is it?”
“March 16th,” Jenna replied. “Observation day’s tomorrow.”
Oh no. I’d forgotten about that. Every month, we have an observation day. It’s so people can come and observe us like they do cattle, then maybe adopt one or two of us. I’d given up on observation day years ago. So had most people over the age of 10. Jenna, unfortunately, is still in the group of people who still believe their going to get adopted one day, and live happily ever after.
“Oh please,” Veronica said, examining her nails. “Observation day is a joke. As if any of us are going get adopted.”
She was right too. Thanks to our bedraggled appearances, sailor-like vocabulary, most of us avoided being adopted each month. The only people getting adopted tomorrow were going to be under the age of two. I’d bet my life on it.
“Not me,” Jenna said. “Me and Margaret are going to get adopted and have a house again. Right Margaret?” Jenna said, looking up at me hopefully.
Veronica stifled a laugh. I added “Severely injure Veronica” to my to-do list. “Sweetie,” I began, choosing my words very, very carefully. “Observation day is for the babies. See, most of us are um...too old to get adopted.”
“But not us right?”
“Well...” I looked at Sabra. She shook her head, making “Make something up” gestures. “Your not too old. So uh, if somebody wants to adopt you tomorrow, you can go with them. Okay?”
“No. I wanna get adopted with you.”
“Jenna, it doesn’t work like that.” I said, rubbing her back.
“Then I’m not going.” She said firmly. “I’m staying here with you. Forever.”
God, I didn’t know what to tell her come my 16th birthday next year. “Yeah Jen, forever.”
Just then, a breathless, white-faced Kyle appeared at our door. “Red, can I talk to you for a sec?”
“Sure she can,” Veronica said, pushing me towards him. “You kids have fun now.”
I followed Kyle into the hallway. “What?”
“I saw the newspaper.” He said, stone faced.
“Yeah, so?”
He took out what seemed to be a ripped article from his pocket, and handed it to me.
“Mitch Roberts was released from a federal prison in Florida after serving nearly a decade behind bars,” I read aloud. “Yeah so?”
“Keep reading,” Kyle instructed.
“The 37-year-old was released Tuesday morning, and boarded a plane for Michigan. The former drug dealer served time for possession of heroin, as well as addition charges on assault to his 6 year old son, Kyle Roberts in 1995...” I stopped reading, and slowly lowered the paper. “You told me your parents died.”
“Yeah. I lied. Keep reading.” He said.
“When asked what Michigan had in store for him, Roberts stated. “...though I made some mistakes in the past, I know I’m better now, and what I have to do. I hope to gain full custody of my son, and hopefully start over with him.”
“I have to get out of here.”
“Huh?” I asked, handing him the article.
“I can’t stay here, Margaret,” Kyle said. “My dad’s coming to get me. If he was released Tuesday, he must be waiting for observation day to come get me.”
“Yeah, but then you can go with him. Isn’t that a good thing? He’s better now.”
“Yeah, you totally know my dad. A couple years of rehab and prison didn’t change him at all. He almost killed me Red.” There was no mistaking the fear in his voice. Kyle was dead serious about leaving.
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
“I dunno. Break out tonight I guess but...”
“What are you doing?” Lamoreaux roared. “What the hell are you doing out of the cellar?”
Busted. “I, uh well...” Yes, I’ve always been known for my quick thinking and witty remarks.
“Well?” Lamoreaux repeated, hands on hips.
“We were hungry,” Kyle piped up, trying to stuff the article into his jean’s pocket.
“What’s that?” Ms. Lamoreaux asked, snatching it from Kyle’s hands. As she skimmed over the article, her lips turned up into a grin. “So, daddy’s coming to get you eh?”
Kyle looked down.
She sighed, crumpling up the paper. “Too bad your parents aren’t coming to get you Margaret. Alright kids, listen up!”
As she said that, everyone over the age of 5 packed into the hallway. “Thanks to Margaret and Kyle,” She said, pacing up and down. “The kitchen’s a mess, and tomorrow, as I’m sure most of you know, is observation day. Therefore, the kitchen, as well as the rest of the house must be absolutely spotless. Understood?”
“Yes Ms. Lamoreaux.” We all chimed together.
She began calling out the different jobs. “Veronica, Everett and Sabra, upstairs bathroom. Tyrell, Jenna and Aendy, all bedrooms. Grayson, Joy, Samantha and Christian front yard. And Margaret and Kyle,” She turned to us smiling. “You two will be cleaning the kitchen. What are you standing there for? Get to work!”
I glanced sideways at Kyle. He flashed me that smile of his. God, that boy had issues.

Cheeeapter Quattro:

I pushed my hair off my forehead and sat back on my feet. We’d been picking up whiskey bottle pieces, scrubbing floors and washing dishes for almost two hours now.
“Red?”
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Come with me.” He said.
“What? I’m not exactly following you...”
“You should come with me. I’m breaking out tonight, and I want you to come with me.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What about Jenna? I can’t leave her.”
“Take her with us,” Kyle replied. “Actually, we could bring a bunch of kids.”
“Why do you want me to come with you?” I asked.
“’Cause I like you I guess,” He said, blue eyes flashing.
Woah, woah, woah! Back up and pause for like, well until I restart my heart. Kyle liked me!? What? Since when? Nobody ever liked me before. Okay, I’ll admit, I’ve been living in the orphanage for 11 years. Finding a significant other is much harder than it looks when you live in a freakin’ orphanage. So when Kyle said what he did, I pretty much lost it. “You like me?”
“Yeah... is that a problem?”
“Um, yeah. I can’t stand you.” I said, coldly.
His face fell. “Oh. Well, you can still come if you want. Company would be nice. But I understand if you don’t wanna come.”
“I’ll think about it,” I replied, rinsing my sponge.
“Alright, fair enough.” He said, rinsing the last dish. “Need some help?”
“No thanks,” I replied. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? I’m done and you-”
I cut him off. “No. I’m fine. Go...go do whatever you normally do.”