Chapter Text
Everyone has a secret side they don't show to other people. Not to friends. Not to lovers. Not even to family.
"I've been expecting you, Desmond," came a voice from a jet black office chair.
They hide who they are behind lies and painted smiles.
"What do you want, Blackbell?"
The jet black chair swiveled around, revealing Becky stroking her dog, Wiesel, in her lap. "I don't know, what do you want?" She asked with a mocking sweetness.
And thus Eden Academy maintains its thin veneer of peace.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Damian raised his brow. "I want a lot of things." He shrugged. "You'll have to be more specific," he sneered, matching her faux smile with his own.
"Evasive as ever," Becky scoffed. "You know what I'm talking about. It's why you're here."
Damian shifted uncomfortably before plastering his smile back on. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He tapped his chin with a finger. "I'm here to enjoy the company of my peers and celebrate the beginning of a new school year."
Becky crouched and let Wiesel down from her lap. "Oh, I'm sure you just want to enjoy the company of your classmates. More like 'a classmate,' singular," Becky remarked, staring Damian straight in the eyes. "Namely, Anya?"
Damian froze. He side-eyed Becky. "You never answered my question."
"You never answered mine." Becky shrugged.
"See, the thing is, I asked first."
"Yes, well, you're in my house." She smiled as she leaned towards him, her chin resting on her folded hands.
Right. Getting kicked out before he could even talk to Anya would be less than ideal. It would be best if he could avoid upsetting her. He scanned the room, taking in the grimy brick walls and muddied tiled floor. "Nice place you've got here," he scoffed.
Becky ignored the comment. "Why don't you sit?"
"No thanks."
"Sit."
"Nah. Don't feel like it."
"Sit. Down." She narrowed her eyes. "Or I'm throwing you out."
Damian yielded and plopped down into the cool, steel chair across from her.
"Wonderful. Let's begin."
FWEEEEET!
Wiesel pattered over with a binder in her mouth.
"Of course your dog is in on it too." Damian rolled his eyes.
Becky snatched the binder. "Wheezy, ignore this horrible man."
Wiesel nodded once in reply before hopping down and scurrying off to the corner of the room. She re-emerged from the shadows, dragging an office chair with her teeth. She paused, then barked. Becky nodded once. Wiesel hopped up onto her hind legs and shoved the chair forward. It shot across the floor until Becky grabbed it by an armrest. Wiesel trotted back over.
Damian blinked.
"Who's a good girl? You are! Yes! You are!" Becky cooed, cradling and petting Wiesel in her arms. Becky turned to Damian and gave him a dirty look. "Never insult my baby girl again. She's more capable than you'll ever be."
Becky spun the chair around, revealing a vibrant pink dog bed in the seat. She kissed Wiesel gently, then placed the dog onto the chair.
Damian opened his mouth again but Becky raised an open palm. "That wasn't an invitation to speak." Becky opened the binder. "You have quite the track record."
"I'm a Desmond. Of course I do." Damian smirked, leaning back in his chair.
"That's not what I meant."
"I guessed not, but quite frankly, I don't care!" Damian chuckled.
"How do you feel about Anya?"
"I could care less," Damian replied coolly.
"So you admit you care some."
Damian's face suddenly lit up crimson. The front legs on his chair slammed back onto the ground. He glared at Becky. "I did not!"
"So you deny it." Becky frowned. "Okay, let's try this again."
"No one likes you, Blackbell," Damian grumbled.
"Demonstrably untrue." Becky examined her nails, then her eyes flicked up to meet his. "Anya likes me."
Damian kicked her under the table. "Oops. My leg slipped!"
"You're sitting down!"
"I am aware." Damian grinned. "I'm just... soooooo clumsy," Damian posited, smiling into his hand.
Becky sighed. "Well, I tried to be civil but I am ultimately loyal to Anya, not morality."
"What." Damian sat upright.
"I am a loyal friend." Becky's voice quavered. "I'm sorry Desmond," she said, looking down at the table.
Damian squinted at her suspiciously. "Why are you apologizing?"
"'Cause I'll interrogate you like the SSS!" Becky declared, grinning and giving him a double thumbs up.
"Pardon?" Damian blinked as if seeing better would change what he heard.
Becky clicked on the desk lamp, blinding him. He immediately recoiled and hissed. "Ow! Do you have to shine that in my face?" He rubbed his eyes. "I don't have to tell you anything!"
Becky turned the lamp away, temporarily restoring his vision. Becky was glaring at him, gripping the binder and a pen. "Evasive," Becky concluded, scribbling in her binder. "Probably malicious intentions."
"WHAT? NO! I DON'T HAVE MALICIOUS INTENTIONS!" Damian shouted. "But. Like. It's just I'm 100% benevolent all the time! HAHAHA." Damian laughed awkwardly and loudly. "I don't have intentions with her! At all."
Becky made a loud incorrect buzzer sound. "Yeah... your tsundere act isn't endearing anymore."
Damian's hands fell to his sides. "What is a tsundere?"
"What are you, a cave dweller?" Becky laughed. "Oh, you're serious. Geez, you live under a rock."
"Those are insults, not an answer to my question. Or are you too dumb to recognize the difference?"
"Read a dictionary! ANYWAY!" Becky waved a hand. Then she directed the light right back into his eyes.
"Could you quit it?! It hurts!" He hissed.
Becky slid him a compact mirror. "Aw, do you not want to see what a hot mess you are?"
"I can't see at all!" Damian seethed, shielding his eyes with his hands to glare at Becky.
"Oh? You can't?" Becky tilted the mirror to reflect the light back into his eyes.
"AGGGGHHH!" Damian shrieked, slapping his hands over his face. "STOP!"
"Your behavior is unacceptable. And so are those eye bags..." Becky clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "The shadows under your eyes extend to your very soul." She shook her head.
"NOT how shadows work," Damian snarled.
"Yes, but it is how metaphors work, Desmond!" Becky nodded condescendingly. Wiesel barked and pawed at Becky. "Fine, fine, I won't shine the light in his eyes. You're right, it's counterproductive. He should be seeing the light metaphorically not literally…" She sighed, slumping into her hand.
Why was Becky being so mean to him? Why was the dog being so nice to him? Was there mercy in this world? Wiesel pawed Damian gently, staring into Damian's soul with big puppy dog eyes.
No. It had to be a trap. Becky corrupts everything she touches, even dogs.
Wiesel barked.
"Well, that didn't work!" Becky clapped her hands together. "Back to torture methods!" she declared with a cheery smile.
"What."
Becky blew her whistle. FWEET! And again. FWEET! FWEEEEET!
Damian's jaw dropped. "You're joking."
FWEET! "Nope!" FWEET!
Damian winced, hands zipping to protect his ears. "Would you quit it?!"
That only made the whistles louder. FWEET! Wiesel began to howl along. FWEET!
"SHUT UP!" Damian demanded. Becky shook her head.
FWEET! Becky clicked the table lamp off. FWEET! She tugged on a pull chain to a hanging, overhead light. FWEET! Becky tugged again and the overhead light turned off. FWEET! FWEET! FWEET! FWEET! FWEET! On. Off. On. Off. Then on.
Damian cringed. "IF I WAS AN EPILEPTIC, YOU WOULD'VE GIVEN ME A SEIZURE BY NOW!"
The whistle dropped from Becky's lips momentarily. Becky scooted her chair back and forth, generating an ear-splitting screeching sound. "THING IS, I KNOW YOU'RE NOT ONE, SO IT'S FAIR GAME!"
"YOU'RE THE WORST!" Damian shouted. His glare flickered in and out with the overhead lamp.
"GOOD! MAYBE YOU'LL SELF-REFLECT!"
FWEET! FWEET! FWEET! On. Off. On. With a SCREEEECH, Becky pushed herself away from the table. FWEET!
"Whew, I can finally see again." Damian smiled, grateful for even the slightest reprieve in this cacophony of annoyances.
FWEET! Becky pulled a balloon from under her chair and slingshotted it at Damian's face. FWEET!
Damian smacked it off, only to find Becky standing back in front of him. She snatched the balloon. FWEET! Becky rubbed the balloon against Damian's hair while Damian batted at her hands. FWWWEEEEEET!
Damian covered his ears once more, recoiling. "I HATE YOU!" He snarled. FWEET! Becky mockingly fluttered her eyelashes at him. "NO ONE LIKES YOU!" She rolled her eyes. FWEET!
One of Becky's hands zipped back up to the overhead lamp. FWEET! Off. Damian's eyelids snapped shut. FWEET! On. "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!" FWEET! Off. His hair tingled at the gathering static electricity. fwwWEEEEEEET! On.
And suddenly, silence. Well, except for the overhead lamp's faint buzzing. Damian's eyes fluttered open and his hands pried themselves off his ears. How annoying. Damian leaned back in his chair, inhaling deeply.
"Take a guess why."
"Why what?"
"Why I'm doing this."
The front legs of Damian's chair slammed back onto the ground. "If you want me to play guessing games with you," Damian said, propping an elbow onto the table, "maybe you should do that before you piss me off." He rubbed his temples.
Becky crept forward and slapped his arm with the balloon.
Damian looked up at her. "What?"
She blinked. "Hold on."
"Holding..." Damian said blankly, staring into space.
"Thanks." Becky whacked his arm with the balloon again.
"What... what are you doing?" Damian asked.
Becky huffed. "Currently? Failing." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Okay! One more time!" She tapped Damian's arm with the balloon.
"Seriously, what are you doooo...ingg..." Damian's voice trailed off, his open palms curling in on themselves. "Oh." Damian glanced down at the balloon then back up at Becky. "Ooooh." He pointed a finger at her. "You're," he concluded triumphantly, "trying to shock me."
"No!" Becky blurted out, hiding the balloon behind her back. "I mean, yes!" She slapped her forehead. "I mean-" She cut herself off and stared at the floor.
Damian laughed, smacking the table with his fist. "Ooh, that's rich. Probably richer than our families' wealth combined."
Becky flushed, knuckles whitening around the knot of the balloon. "It isn't that funny."
Damian smoothed his hair back down. "It's okay Blackbell. It definitely is that funny." He smirked, locking eyes with her.
Becky's shoulders sagged. "Can you just... take it and shock yourself please?" She extended the balloon out to him.
Damian snorted. He slapped a hand over his mouth. He stared at the balloon. He snickered. He looked away, then back again. His eyes darted up to meet Becky's. "You're serious. I cannot believe you're serious."
"That's not an answer to my question!" Becky stomped.
Damian coughed to hide another laugh. "Sure. I'll shock myself. Give me the balloon." His straight face faltered and he cracked a smile.
"Great!" Becky cheered.
"Are you going to say thank you too?" His eyes followed the balloon as she approached.
"I don't see why not. Thank you." Becky handed him the balloon.
"And thank you... FOR BEING SO DUMB!" Damian cackled, lunging forward and shocking her with the balloon.
"OW! You traitor!" Becky gasped, jumping back.
"I'm not a traitor if we're on different sides. That's the fault of the scenario you created."
"You are so untrustworthy! I don't know why anyone trusts you with ANYTHING!" Becky retorted.
Damian's lips curled up into a smile against his best efforts. "Becky, it seems you've forgotten that you asked me to shock myself. Do you realize how stupid it was to hand me a weapon when you've been messing with me?"
"A balloon isn't a weapon." Becky muttered.
"Whatever you say." Damian rolled his eyes. "I do intend to fulfill my promise. I still refuse to use my hair to charge it though."
"Because of Anya?" Becky crossed her arms.
"So I still have the balloon." Damian grinned. "Get over here." He said, teeth slightly gritted but voice still eerily sweet. "We'll use your hair."
"You're going to shock me again!"
"Because of your comment about Anya and your accusation, yeah, I might." Damian laughed, waving the balloon around mindlessly. "That's a risk you have to be willing to take."
"Seriously?! I'm not letting you shock me again!" Becky glared.
"Hurry up and get over it." Damian yawned. "Please."
Becky didn't budge.
Damian sighed. "Whatever. I'll do it myself." He rolled up his sleeve and rubbed the balloon against his arm, recharging it with static electricity. "Done. Would you like to do the honors?"
"I would. Thank you." Becky smiled.
Damian jabbed the balloon at Becky as she approached. She jumped backwards. "YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T!"
"I didn't agree not to spook you though." Damian snickered. "Okay, seriously, you can have it." Damian said. He extended the balloon to her. "I'm a man of my word. Besides, it's 0 to 1 right now: that's unbalanced. I like to think of myself as a champion of equality."
"'Champion of equality' and it's just you fulfilling your promise," Becky muttered.
"It really isn't that big of a deal. You mess with me, I mess with you. Simple. Fair."
I hate that he has a point. "Ugh." Becky eyed the balloon warily.
"I cannot spend the entire evening coaxing you into retrieving the balloon. I have other things to do. Important things." Such as talking to Anya.
"Like, talk to Anya?"
"See, comments like that are why we're in this situation in the first place!" Damian snapped. "Just get over here and take the balloon!"
"Ugh! Fine!" Becky stormed over and snatched the balloon from his hand. "You're the worst." She tapped Damian with the balloon.
"Ouch.” He winced slightly at the shock. "You overreacted. This whole thing is so stupid."
"It's not stupid! She doesn't have any siblings to protect her from dirt bags like you!"
He laughed. "I don't have any siblings—"
"You have Demetrius," Becky interjected.
"I wasn't finished!" Damian objected. "I don't have any siblings who would do that kind of thing either," he said, shrugging. "If Demetrius did, it would be..."
Weird. It would be weird. Speaking of weird, why was he suddenly holding a glass of grapefruit juice? Why were his hands so... small? And why was he wearing a white suit?
The people around him—which he realized were all girls—were equally small. They weren't just small, they were young. He shivered. Was he getting hit on by a bunch of first graders?
Oh. OH NO. HE WAS BACK AT THE DANCE FROM THE FIRST GRADE.
Maybe it wasn't so bad. He caught Anya's emerald eyes through the gap in the crowd. His face contorted and warmed. It was disgusting! He was tiny and vulnerable! Where were Emile and Ewen when he needed them?!
His head frantically darted around the room. His eyes landed on them right as they were knocked to the floor by a streak of black and red. An Imperial Scholar? Damian suddenly met wide eyes with pin-prick pupils. DEMETRIUS DESMOND the Imperial Scholar?!
Damian gasped, his hands shot up to his mouth. He was dewy-eyed. His chest swelled with something dangerous: hope. Demetrius had come to save him! Or not.
*Because then Demetrius did the unthinkable, the unforgettable, the unforgivable. With a firm shoulder pat, Demetrius declared the horribly familiar words of Ewen and Emile all those years ago. "Form a single line, ladies."
Damian's blood went cold and his face paled. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" His sobbing caught in his throat. "I can't do this, not again." Damian sniffled into his hands. He blinked away his tears, the dingy ballroom flickering into a dimly lit room with a metal table. Oh wait, that part was real.
Becky's eyes widened. Apparently, his scream had been real too. "Are you okay?" she enquired, brows furrowed with concern.
Damian panted like he was recovering from a waterboarding. His eyes stung. "Um... yeah... I'm okay." His hand slid off his forehead. "My throat is kind of dry though." He croaked.
Becky shifted uncomfortably, wringing her hands. "Do you want some water?" Becky asked awkwardly.
"That would be nice, thanks. It would also be nice if you would refrain from mentally replacing my brother with doppelgängers in the future."
"I can do that. Both of those things."
Silence.
"Soooo, do you have to tell a servant or?"
"Nope."
Damian pinched his lips together, gesturing to the mirror by a filing cabinet. "That's two way, isn't it?"
"Noooooo," she mumbled.
"Oh cool, so you just have wiretaps in here somewhere?" He joked, crossing his arms behind his head.
"Yup!" Becky chirped.
"Wait, what?" Damian locked eyes with Becky. She's serious!
CRASH! He hopped to his feet. "Are you joking? Becky!" He SLAMMED his hands on the table and glared at her face, now only inches away.
CREEEEAAKK! Damian whipped his head back around.
A servant stood in the doorway, holding a silver tray with two cups of water balanced upon it. "You're in Ms. Blackbell's personal space," he droned.
Talk about bad timing. Damian put his hands in the air and took a step back.
"Ms Blackbell, you promised there'd be no funny business. I'm afraid I'll have to—"
"No!" Becky whined, stamping her foot. "I'm sorry! He didn't mean it! Right Damian?"
"Uh, I'm confused about what's happening here." Damian raised a hand.
Becky yanked his hand down. "My dad is super protective. You're the opposite sex." She whisper-shouted.
"Oh, you don't say? YEAH, DUH SHERLOCK," Damian retorted. Then his eyes lit up with understanding. "Oh. Ooooooh," Damian said, wrinkling up his nose. "Would he really think?" Damian whispered back.
"He'd say 'all men are wolves' and he'd be right because that's what you are, you—"
"AHEM. The conspiratorial whispering isn't helping your case Ms. Blackbell."
"NO! IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!" Becky shrieked. "I'll- I'll punch him in the face! As proof!"
Damian gasped. "What?! I didn't agree to that! Not if I punch you first!"
The servant eyed the two warily. "Ms. Blackbell, you promised me there would be no violence."
No violence? Damian and Becky share a look. Somehow, by some miracle, they'd managed to evade an earlier interruption.
Becky stepped forward, eyeing Damian one last time before she spoke. "No! He was only in my personal space because he was trying to scare me! He hasn't hurt me in any physical capacity at all tonight! I haven't hurt him in any physical capacity at all tonight!"
Becky elbowed Damian. Play along.
Why would I save you from being grounded? Damian narrowed his eyes at her. Then his eyes widened. Right. Your dad. Military industrial complex. Would he shoot me?! Becky! Is that what you're implying?!
Becky gave no facial expression in response.
"Is this true, Mr. Desmond?" The servant asked.
Damian blinked. My motives? Pure instinct. Probably not an acceptable answer. "Uh." He side-eyed Becky who nodded furiously. "...yes? Yes! She was being really rude so iiiiIII... got defensive! I'm sorry for the confusion. I got in her personal space because she's done nothing but insult me all night." Damian said with a gritted smile, giving Becky a stink eye.
"See! It's only verbal violence!" Becky clapped. "Please don't shut it down! I worked so hard on putting all of this together!" Becky whined. "It really isn't violent!"
"No, it definitely is. Just against my eardrums. You sound like nails on a chalkboard." Damian coughed into a fist.
Becky whipped her head towards him. Becky kicked him in the shin. Damian hissed, then he glared at her. Don't risk our lie with jokes, is what her scowl seemed to say.
The servant nodded slowly and solemnly. "Yes. I understand Ms. Blackbell." The servant lifted the tray to them. "Water?"
"Oh! Thank you! I nearly forgot."
"Thanks for the water," he muttered weakly as he took his glass.
The servant bowed his head and then left.
"This is all your fault." Becky huffed the moment the servant left.
Damian rolled his eyes. "Because this whole thing, whatever," he said as he gestured around, "this thing is, was my idea. Sureeeee. Whatever helps you sleep at night." He took a sip of his water.
"I'm going to spit in your cup," Becky threatened.
"Then I won't drink it. What are you, 6?" Damian laughed.
"That's rich coming from you! You're a grown man!"
"I'm 15. That is hardly a grown man, Blackbell."
"That was my blunder." Becky conceded. "You can hardly be called human, let alone a man." Becky scowled. Damian opened his mouth to object but Becky's manicured hand shot up in front of his face. "Don't try and deny it, Desmond. You know I've known for years."
"You never stop!" Damian groaned.
"Don't worry, that's about to change."
Damian straightened in his seat. "Oh? Go on."
"Wow, you really hate me, don't you?"
"Why of course!" Damian grinned. He rested his chin on his folded hands. Then with mocking innocence, he batted his eyelashes at her.
"I hate you more," Becky giggled. Her girlish grin faded, giving way to a stone face glare. "I really do. You have zero shame—"
"Only because I have nothing to be ashamed of," Damian flashed her a smug, self-satisfied grin.
Becky stared. "And that's why you always hide behind excuses when it comes to Anya. Because you're just so fearless and unabashed."
Damian's face fell. He glared.
"Yeah… I don't think any amount of 'tactics' explains your behavior." Becky rose from the table and snatched his glass of water. "You don't deserve this by the way," she said, shaking the glass side-to-side slightly.
Damian rolled his eyes, slumping back in his chair. He wasn't going to argue. He wasn't that dehydrated, at least not yet. He did tend to get weirdly sweaty around Anya. "Whatever."
Becky promptly poured out Damian's water, into a potted plant, while making direct eye contact. "You know, most people change during a decade," Becky said coolly, examining the plant's leaves as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.
"Oh really? You wouldn't know anything about that, would you? You're as petty as ever. So petty, in fact, that you backpedaled on an act of charity in little over a minute."
"Did I hear someone projecting?"
"Playing dumb only ruins your credibility."
"I don't need credibility with you."
Damian shrugged. "Well, maybe if you want me to listen to you."
Becky laughed coldly. "Please, you wouldn't listen either way. You lie to me despite how painfully obvious your feelings for Anya are. Everyone can see it! People wouldn't have half the certainty they do if it wasn't true! People aren't that dumb."
Damian sucked a breath in between his teeth. "Oooh… Blackbell… that's argumentum ad populum. And perhaps… faulty generalization? Who is included in 'everyone'? You?" Damian laughed. "Two possible fallacies… you're really great at arguing, Blackbell."
Blackbell pinched the bridge of her nose. "Look. It's been ten years. You have two choices: man up and confess or move on!"
"Now why would I participate in your false dilemma? That's another fallacy." Damian grinned.
"Real love requires courage and sacrifice, Damian." She hissed.
"Just to clarify," he raised a hand, "you are trying to make logical arguments, yes?"
"Duh!"
"Wonderful! Reification fallacy. Love cannot require anything from me. Love is an emotion, not a person."
"Sure, sure. But I am a person capable of setting requirements." Becky glared. "And I refuse to let Anya have anything but the best. You don't even meet the bare minimum. No one who's serious about someone else behaves the way you do."
Damian folded his hands and leaned in. "Appeal to purity."
"I'm sure you can find it in your heart to tell her because if you don't, I will make your life a living hell until you commit to a choice. How's that for an argument?"
"Congratulations. A formally valid argument." Damian said, staring blankly at her.
Becky sighed in relief.
Damian snickered, a smile creeping into his face. "Except it's still informally invalid! Argumentum ad baculum."
Becky groaned into her hands. "I hate you."
"Ad hominem."
"That wasn't an argument idiot!"
"You said you were trying to make logical arguments. I took you at your word." Damian shrugged innocently.
"You know that's not what I meant!"
"I'm not a mindreader. You're not a mindreader. Let's not kid ourselves that you know what you're talking about."
"Are you ever going to listen to me?"
"Nope!"
"Why did I even try? Why do I even bother?"
"I don't know. Why do you try? My guess is that you want to be a bother. If that's your goal, then congratulations! This certainly was an inconvenience!"
Becky put her face in her hands. "Please get out."
"Now why would I do that? I'm finally having fun!"
Becky made a shooing motion with her hand. "Please… just… get out." She croaked.
"Well," Damian failed to suppress a smile, "because you're so confident that I have feelings for Anya, I'll humor you." He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. "And… talk to her." He giggled in a way too genuine to be mockery. Then he lurched forward. Eyes dead serious. Hands clenching the table. And beaming like a child on his birthday. "Soooooo," his fingers tapped on the table excitedly, "where is she?"
Becky sighed and looked up at him. "She's not even here."
Damian froze. "What?"
"You heard me."
"Total waste of my time." Damian tucked his chair back under the table with a very gentle SLAM! "Good night to you!" Damian stomped over to the door, mumbling further complaints to himself.
"AHA!" Becky's head snapped up. "I thought you wanted to spend time with all of your classmates!"
Damian whirled back towards her. "Shut. Up." He shook a finger at her. "You're the worst." He snarled. He laughed, cold and contemptuous. His body shook with barely concealed anger. "No one likes you!" He shouted.
"Anya does." Becky sniffed.
"Well!" Damian clapped his hands together. "I'm the one who's currently here." He hissed through gritted teeth. "And I hate you!" His eye twitched.
"I miss her." Becky said sadly.
"Me too." Damian murmured, temporarily deflating.
"What was that…?" Becky asked wearily.
"NO ONE LIKES YOU!" Damian snapped, spinning around on his heel. His wave looked more like a karate chop. "GOODBYE!" He flung the door open.
"Bye." Becky scowled.
"GOODBYE!" Damian shouted from the door frame.
"You already said that."
"I WANT THE LAST WORD!" Damian's shaking hand clamped down on the doorknob. "FAREWELL!"
SLAM!
Wiesel barked.
"I know right?" Becky rolled her eyes. "Can you believe that guy?"
Wiesel barked again.
"Me neither." Becky shook her head. "Me neither."