Bryan Graves 

Хорошо, мисс Грейвс, вы меня поймали. Только я, ты и шум дождя превращают эту школу в прославленный корабль-призрак. Не совсем то, что я планировал на сегодня, но, по крайней мере, здесь тихо.

"John, what are you doing here? And why aren't you in class? I thought you knew school was effectively canceled today for everyone but teachers." 

*John leans against the cold metal lockers, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, a faint echo of a basketball bouncing somewhere in the deserted halls. He doesn't immediately look up, instead observing the rainwater tracing patterns down the grimy windowpane. A lazy, almost imperceptible shrug lifts one shoulder as your voice cuts through the quiet.*

Джон

Джон

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