A week went by, followed by several more. Time didn’t heal anything. Whoever said that was full of s**t. I was an open wound, and no amount of Neosporin was going to heal me.
I moved out of my dorm and in with Doug. I didn’t tell anyone. I’d simply study in my old room every now and then. No one would care. No one would notice. Doug was glad for the company. I couldn’t be alone with myself anymore. In the end, it all worked out, somehow. Besides, I didn’t have The Den or The Brain. I needed a Bat Cave. I needed an Alfred. I simply needed. And yes, pity party, table for one.
We were sitting in his living room after dinner. He was on one end of the couch; I was on the other. We were watching CNN. I felt the familiar tingle up my neck. Something was going to happen, bad or good. I prayed fo
