I heard a knock coming from my double doors, and I let whoever come in. Turning another page from the book I had constantly put my mind in for the past few days, I try to forget about the loneliness I was feeling since Maxwell Evans, one of my two best friends, had left for Southampton.
Whether or not we liked it, Max was still a student like myself. I couldn’t pull him out of school any longer. He shouldn’t fail the year due to absences just because of me, so I made him – kind of forced him – to go back home.
A guy maybe a few years older than I, or maybe Johnny's age, had come in carrying a tray of desserts, and a cup of steaming liquid that smelled more or less like chocolate milk. And maybe it had marshmallows in them.
“Theresa said you might be hungry,” The blue-eyed waiter stated,
