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Roots to Grow and Wings to Fly
It takes me an embarrassing long time to figure out what is going on.
My only excuse is that I’m not used to these types of antics in my classroom anymore. Eridian and human children are very similar in a lot of ways but they are also quite different in many others. While most children on earth see school as an obligation, on Erid being able to attend classes is considered one of the highest honors. Of course I’m generalizing: there are a lot of children on earth who would also consider it a privilege to go to school and learn but who are being prevented from doing so by their own government or social injustices.
Nothing like that could ever happen here. Even the idea of intentionally refusing a pebble the chance to learn is such an outrageous concept to them that the Eridians didn’t believe me when I first told them about the struggles some children on earth face because of missing education opportunities or financial constraints.
My kids liked learning but even with them I sometimes had to really put in the work to keep their attention. My pebbles mostly do the work for me. It takes very little effort on my part to get them to ‘lock in’ as my old students would call it. Sometimes it is a bit frightening, to be honest, this intense single-minded focus they pour into my lessons. They can get distracted like any other child but it’s not the kind of distraction I’m used to. Nothing like classmates whispering to each other or passing notes under the tables. My pebbles get distracted by ideas and theories. They routinely go off on tangents that turn out to have nothing to do with the current topic but that have led us down interesting rabbit holes from time to time.
Yes, I know that I need to be stricter about that and stick to the lesson plan but some of the most fun and engaging lessons have started with a pebble raising their claw and going: “But Teacher Grace, what about-?”
This makes it sound like they are model students but they do keep me on my toes, don’t get me wrong. As exemplary as they are during the lessons, the breaks in between are another matter entirely. Even Eridian brains need a break from time to time and I let them roam free during those and tell them to just relax and not worry about the material at all.
And oh boy, I did not have to tell them twice.
Break periods are chaotic to say the least and by observing them I have unfortunately become quite familiar with an Eridian’s idea of trends and memes.
Yes, memes.
As a teacher, a well liked teacher whose students would sometimes come up to him to show him the latest tiktok trend, it was virtually impossible to escape them. Apparently I don’t have much more luck on another planet. Eridian memes are vastly different from the ones I had to suffer through on earth (and why for God’s sake couldn’t the coma have scrubbed my brain of skibidi toilet?) but just as baffling. I guess you haven’t really lived until you’ve seen a bunch of pebbles stack on top of each other and shout “Who is the boulder now?” repeatedly.
Yeah, I don’t get it either.
They have asked me to show them earth memes on my portable earth thinking machine but I told them that I don’t have any. Which is a lie, of course. Either Stratt had lost it a little near the end or she’d really thought we’d need thousands of gifs of Homer Simpson sliding backwards into a bush or Squidward squinting resentfully at Spongebob and Patrick through his blinds. Just to name a few.
I looked through them all. Every. Single. One.
Don’t you dare judge me! The journey to Erid was long and boring when I wasn’t having an existential crisis or panic attacks.
I’m not going to give my pebbles any more ammo. It’s bad enough that Rocky quotes “One does not simply walk into Mordor” at me from time to time.
The point is that my pebbles are usually so low maintenance that I haven’t noticed the subtle change in behavioral pattern until a few days have gone by. Their eagerness to learn has blinded me to the fact that they have become suspiciously well-behaved. For a few days now they have been almost creepily obedient and placid. They stay on track too. We have breezed through the latest topic so fast that we are able to start on a new one early which has never happened before. Their thirst for knowledge usually means that the clarifying questions are endless.
On top of that they have been notably polite lately. Asking me about my day and how I’m feeling. Does Teacher Grace need anything? Can we help Teacher Grace with anything? They volunteer to assist each other when someone struggles with an assignment without me having to ask them. And they keep telling me how interesting I am and how I’m the best teacher they’ve ever had.
They’ve always been vocal with their affections but that’s too much, even for them.
It isn’t until one of them jumps up from their seat to remind me that I gave them homework yesterday and none of the others groan or shush them that it finally clicks. I remember now why this feels so familiar.
I bite back a smile.
Like I said: No matter the solar system, children will be children.
“Alright, everyone!” I say and put my hands on my hips. I tilt my head down and stare at them over the top of my glasses. I try to keep my expression stern but my lips are twitching too much and betray my amusement. “I’m guessing this is about parent-teacher night tonight, huh?”
A chorus of “Nooooo”, “Whaaaat?” and “That was today?” greets me.
I give up on the charade and laugh. “It totally is! Oh pebs, did you really think buttering me up in the days leading up to it would make a difference?”
“What does buttering up mean?” Len asks.
“It means being extra nice to someone, flattering them with exaggerated compliments or insincere actions or lies so they will be nice to you in return and give you something you want.”
They all deflate and shift in their seats. Put like that, it doesn’t sound so nice and I think they just realized that trying to manipulate their teacher might not have been such a great idea. Not that I blame them in the slightest. I recognize these tactics from my human students and I never held it against them either.
I still don’t understand how they could afford the mountains of skittles I would find on my desk.
Gosh, I did stuff like this myself when I was a kid. Parent-teacher nights can be scary, especially when you have parents at home that put your performance at school above everything else and that take even the smallest critique from your teacher and hold it over your head forever, no matter how well you are doing otherwise.
The vague memory of sitting at home, waiting with a knot in my stomach for my parents to come home and tear into me, sombers me up real fast and I almost miss my pebbles humming low in unison.
“Sorry sorry sorry,” Sam pipes up. “Teacher Grace is the best teacher. Not a lie.”
They all trill and warble in agreement and I smile and shake my head. “Thank you, that’s very sweet of you all. And just for the record, none of you have anything to worry about, ok? You are all wonderful students and I’ll only have good things to say to your parents.”
Back on earth I’ve known teachers who’d enjoyed the oppressive air in a classroom just before the annual parent-teacher night. They’d watch the kids squirm and sweat and try to be on their best behavior and they’d relish in their sense of control over these little humans. I’m sure they thought of themselves as a person who commands respect when in reality they were just cruel and very much comfortable in their cruelty. They took joy from making note of every little mistake and mentioning almost casually how their parents wouldn’t like to hear about that, not caring at all that in some cases that throw away comment was already enough to make a child spiral and shut down for the rest of the period.
Needless to say that those were not the kind of teachers I shared my lunch breaks with.
To compensate for losers like that (and also because it is just my teaching style) I in turn would make it a point to gush about everything positive they’d done in class lately and then casually mention that I couldn’t wait to tell their parents all about it. Of course I never lied or omitted any real problems their children were having in my class but my kids always knew that I’d never tear them down in front of their parents. Even if their performances had been less than satisfactory that year my goal would always be to work with them, not against them.
Following that old tradition, I don’t mind telling my pebbles that I plan to praise them all excessively.
I admittedly have a bit of a hidden agenda as well.
My health is getting better and better but for now the doctors have been dissuading me from taking on too much work too quickly. They are still worried about relapses. So even though I hope I can up my hours soon these pebbles are the only ones I’m teaching right now which makes this class a bit of an exclusive event.
Which they are very much aware of.
And therein lies the problem. They are so excited to learn from the resident alien that they don’t dare act out, too afraid that they might get thrown out and lose their coveted spot in my classroom. Not that I would ever do that. For me to ban someone from my classes they would have to do something truly heinous and even then I’d probably try to reintegrate them sooner rather than later.
I find myself wishing these kids were a bit more mischievous and cheeky. Of course I don't want a disruptive or chaotic classroom but sometimes it feels like I don’t get to experience their true personalities unfiltered. Like they are holding a part of themselves back because of a crippling sense of respect for me.
Respect for your teacher is good but it should never tip into apprehension.
So even though I have always hated the tediousness of a parent-teacher meeting I bit the bullet and sent out invites to all the parents. I could have gotten away with never doing one of these on Erid since they don’t seem to be the norm around here. Rocky and Adrian had no idea what I was talking about when I explained the concept to them.
But as much as I would have loved to skip this part of my teaching job, my pebbles are more important. I need them to finally understand that I’m not going to throw them away at the slightest hint of imperfection. They don’t seem to believe me when I tell them how great they are and how happy teaching them makes me. They are too grateful to me to really believe that I also get something out of this arrangement, that this is not just an obligation for me. My hope is that they will believe their parents when they get home and tell them how satisfied and pleased Teacher Grace is with their performances. It’s just different when it comes from your parents, isn’t it?
I know I would have killed for praise like that from my parents.
After my words of encouragement the mood lifts considerably. They are excitedly chattering among themselves and I let them be for a moment. Over time they have gotten into the habit of lowering their voices considerably whenever they need to talk among themselves. It has made all the differences for my migraines and I can’t help but smile at their care for me. How they all think I might have anything bad to say about them to their parents is beyond me.
Quinn squeezes themselves through their classmates and scuttles closer to the xenonite barrier. They tap it to get my attention and I come over and get down on one knee.
“What is it, Quinn?”
They click their little claws and tipple on their feet. Quinn has trouble staying still on good days already but today the excitement is thrumming through their body like an electric current.
“Quinn can’t wait for Teacher Grace to meet my parent!” they squeal and spin in a tight circle exactly three times.
I grin. It’s nice to know that at least one of them wasn’t panicking about tonight.
“I can’t wait to meet them either,” I tell them.
Quinn jumps up and down and watching their excitement a sudden thought occurs to me. It’s not like I forgot. It just sometimes slips my mind and then it hits me all over again like a punch to the stomach.
I try to keep the smile on my face.
Parent. Singular.
Quinn is the offspring of someone from Rocky’s crew. My eyes wander through the room and something squeezes my heart like a vice.
Most of them are.
In hindsight it was inevitable that the pebbles of the scientists working on my biodome would be curious enough about me to seek me out, given the fact that they were also all connected to the crew that sadly didn’t make it home.
I only learned about these connections later. Apparently the Eridians’ approach to building a space ship had been eerily similar to our own efforts on earth. The greatest minds on Erid were recruited to work on the problem, living together in a very compact space. Working together, learning together, watching each other sleep. Their version of the VAT was a cave system where they did everything together and where they also, naturally, fell in love, just like Dubois and Shapiro had done. A lot of the same scientists volunteered for a spot on their spaceship, leaving behind new mates and barely hatched pebbles.
And when Rocky, the sole survivor, returned with the solution and with an alien that would need their help the remainder of the old team all came back together to finish the work they had started and pay tribute to their mates and friends.
It’s how I sometimes imagine the old crew of the Petrova Task Force coming back together one last time to analyse the beetles and get to work.
Those that are still alive and not in prison.
I don’t like to think about that.
So unbeknown to me almost all of the pebbles that flocked to me back then were the children of Rocky’s old crew.
Rocky had to spell that out for me. It’s hard to imagine that these pebbles are older than me, almost all of them over fifty years old. Considering the average lifespan of an Eridian they are still children. Compared to a human they are way past their midlife-crisis.
I don’t like to think about that either.
Many of the other pebbles that were chosen later to join the class were also connected to the Blip-A crew in one way or another.
Rocky told me, hunkered down and trembling in my arms, that allowing them to be the first pebbles to join my class was considered a sign of appreciation by the elders for the sacrifices that they had to make.
That felt wrong to me. Like a very messed up consolation prize.
I struggled with this knowledge for a very long time, wondering if this was really the right way to go about this. But then one day my pebbles asked me to explain radiation to them. Just by the mood in the room I could tell that they were aware of what had killed their parents and family members.
It’s just that they didn’t understand it.
They wanted to understand it.
I almost bailed but after taking a deep breath I told them everything I knew about it. How it develops and what it does. The science behind it. Ways to counteract the effects and how to shield against it. I told them that the engineers were already working on recreating earth's methods.
I told them that radiation would never harm any of them or their loved ones ever again.
And when they left my classroom at the end of that day they all came up to the xenonite barrier and pressed their little claws against it, one by one. And every single one of them thanked me in a small voice and…
Yeah.
Maybe the elders had the right idea after all.
I swallow and blink the tears out of my eyes. “Is there anything specific you want me to talk with them about?”
Quinn turns in a circle again, this time in the other direction. “No! I’m just happy parent finally gets to meet Teacher Grace themselves. They are very very very curious about Teacher Grace.”
“They are?”
“Yes! Are always asking me to tell them about Teacher Grace. Always need to know everything.”
“I’m sure you mean they ask about the lessons?”
“No. About Teacher Grace. What Teacher Grace sounds like. What Teacher Grace did today. What Teacher Grace likes.”
Huh. Are they trying to get a feel for my teaching methods? I hope they don’t second guess their decision to send Quinn here. Maybe they’re trying to figure out if I actually know what I’m doing or if I’m a danger to their kid.
Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to butter them up a little.
Anything for my students.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Hours later I drag myself through the door of my home and collapse face first into the couch Adrian has set up for me. I press my face into the cushion and scream. The artificial material muffles my voice but it is too scratchy to be comfortable against my bare skin so I stop and try to move as little as possible. All I want to do is close my eyes and forget I exist for a few hours.
A claw prods at me and I groan.
Rocky titters. “That bad?”
I just groan again and he scuttles up on the couch with me. Fortunately it is designed to withstand the weight of two Eridians and their squishy human. He settles on top of me and I can feel his body coming to a rest on my lower back. My friend is very careful to keep most of his weight off of me so his presence is just the slightest bit of pressure, just enough to say “I’m here”. The two of us learned the hard way that I’m not doing so great with being pressed into the ground by a weight on my back.
Sometimes I can still feel the grass and earth beneath my nails.
He must have been waiting for me for a while. I can feel his impatience in the way he scratches a claw over my scalp. It helps with the headache at least.
“Tell Rocky!” he demands and I tilt my head to the side so I don’t inhale couch cushion every time I try to speak.
“Not bad, just exhausting,” I admit and sigh when he hits an especially sensitive spot near my ear. “It went pretty good actually until the last appointment. Quinn's parent really put me through the ringer. They insisted on calling me Savior Grace even though I told them repeatedly that just Grace is fine. Asking all kinds of weird questions and demanding weekly meetings. I was able to nip that in the bud. I had to deal with enough helicopter parents on earth, I really don’t need a repeat. Oh, helicopter parents means-”
But Rocky isn’t interested in my explanation. “What kind of questions, question?”
“Questions that had nothing to do with Quinn’s performance.” I roll my eyes and notice that I’m getting worked up again. Trying to get the midnight blue Eridian back on track had been a nightmare and I’d almost lost my composure a couple of times. “Just what I like to do and what I’ve seen of Erid so far and if they can give me a tour once my suit is finished. And they insisted I tell them what my favorite type of mineral is. I mean, why would they want to know that? What does that have to do with how their kid is doing in class?”
Midway through my rant Rocky has stopped carding his claw through my hair. He is silent for a few seconds and I’m just about to ask him if he’s alright when his whole body starts to tremble. It alarms me enough that I wiggle my arms underneath me and lift my upper body off the couch.
“Rock?”
But then the trembling morphs into full on shaking and then laughter so loud and shrill that I have to cover my ears.
Rocky laughs and laughs and laughs. He laughs so hard that he falls off of me to the ground where he then proceeds to roll in a circle, waving his limbs around, laughing even harder.
I scramble to my feet and just stare at him, not sure what to do.
“What’s so funny?”
He has stopped rolling around and slowly gets to his feet, wheezing through his vents.
“Grace is so dumb, statement! Dumb, dumb Grace.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “That’s not nice.”
“Dumb!” he repeats with glee. “But not your fault. Their attempt was very clumsy.”
“Attempt at what?”
He comes closer and takes my hand and pats it as if he has to comfort me. About my own tragic stupidity, perhaps.
“Let me explain it this way. When Rocky and Adrian started courtship, I asked them about their favorite mineral to make them a gift.”
I frown.
Rocky waits.
And then it finally clicks.
“Wait wait wait!” I shout and rip my hand out of his so I can run it through my own hair. “So you're telling me they have a crush on me?
“No, they don't want to crush you, silly Grace. They want to mate you.”
I blush and throw him a dirty look. “That might have worked the first year into our journey but we have watched way too many chick flicks together for me to believe that you don't know what a crush is.” Rocky titters. This is probably the best day of his life, the little rascal. “But are you sure?”
“Grace is… need word.” Oh, we haven't had that in a long time. “Stupid when things are obvious.”
Can't be clueless, he has used that one to describe me more than once.
“Oblivious,” I hazard a guess and turn to scowl at him. “And just because I'm not interested in sex doesn't mean I'm oblivious, okay? I’ll have you know there were many parents on earth that made their interest in me very clear and I always picked up on that. I have just perfected the art of ignoring it.”
“A lot?” Rocky asks.
I cough and turn my face away. I'm not embarrassed or anything but before this moment my popularity with the parents was more of a distant memory in the back of my head. My amnesia sometimes chooses the weirdest moments to hit me with something out of the blue. Suddenly I can see them as if they are standing right in front of me. The divorced mothers. And sometimes the fathers, too. Making eyes at me, trying to suss out if I was single or simply staring at my ringless fingers as if waiting for me to ask them out. And that one time when that happily married couple invited me to join them on one of their dates at a very exclusive and exotic club. I shiver at the memory. The Johnsons were quite… bold.
“Well, a few,” I deflect. I don't even want to know what kind of hazing Rocky could do with that information. “The point is, I know when someone is flirting with me, ok? But I didn't expect anything like that here on Erid. I mean we are completely different species. I can't imagine I check any of the boxes that would make a mate physically attractive to an Eridian.”
“You don't. You leak everywhere. It’s gross.” Wow buddy. Didn't even hesitate. Thanks for keeping me humble, I guess. “But Grace is smart and kind and brave and gentle and good to pebbles. All attributes Eridians would greatly appreciate in a mate.”
Ok, I'd rather he keep me humble.
I can feel my face burning and bury it in my hands. “Fudge.”
Rocky hums. He seems to contemplate something. “Also, mating with the Savior of Erid would make them very famous. Status symbol. Many Eridians are jealous of Adrian. Fools should be jealous of Rocky!”
I smile at my lovesick buddy. It's so cute how crazy they still are about each other even after over 180 years together.
But what he's said won't leave my head. Dating me as a status symbol? Just the idea gives me a queasy feeling.
“That makes it even worse! Do you really think that's it?”
“It was Quinn’s parent?” he asks and I can tell the moment he remembers. He hunkers down a little and rubs a claw over the symbol of his ship rank that had been carved into his body. “Probably not. They have been… lonely. Maybe lonely enough to-”
To become desperate. To cling to anything even remotely connected to their old mate. Even if that something is a leaky, incompatible human.
My hands are sweaty. I want to go over there and comfort him but his body language is closed off.
“Rocky-”
He shakes himself and straightens up. His voice sounds forcibly cheerful. “Or maybe they are just a freak.”
It's such an obvious attempt to change the topic and lift the mood that I inwardly wince. But in the end I still laugh like the dutiful friend that I am. There are times when Rocky and I talk openly about these things and our feelings and all the people that we’ve lost. Today is not such a time. I might not always get social cues right but I never miss with Rocky. It's easy with Rocky.
“I think I'd prefer that, honestly.” I hesitate. “So should I just ignore it then or should I try to talk to them about it?”
“Ignore them.” My friend sounds dismissive, as if he's already moved on from the conversation. He is resetting the chess board for a new game and gestures for me to join him. “They will get the message and stop.”
“If you say so,” I mumble and grab a cushion to sit down on the floor with my legs crossed.
We are five draws into the game when Adrian squeezes through the patio doors I've left open for them. They are too big for the regular door.
They ask me how Erid’s first ever parent-teacher night went and Rocky wastes no time telling them that I got hit on. I immediately throw a chess piece at his head. Unfortunately it is one of my own and it was still part of the board which gives him an unfair advantage because he doesn’t even think about retrieving it for me and I’m too lazy to go get it back myself after the day I’ve had.
Adrian chuckles but he seems more intrigued by Rocky’s reaction. Or lack thereof. “I am surprised you are so calm about this, dearest mate.”
“I am too,” I admit. “Wasn’t it you who threatened to rip that doctor’s leg off because they cut off some of my hair as a keepsake without asking? Where is that overprotective rage we’ve all come to love and fear?”
I’m only half joking, by the way. Rocky can be quite feral when he thinks someone has invaded my privacy or threatened the comfort and safety of his human. Propositioning me apparently doesn’t count.
He expels air through his vents. His version of an exasperated sigh.
“I am not worried. That Eridian is no danger to oblivious Grace.”
“Not oblivious,” I protest under my breath. Especially not anymore now that I know this is actually something that I have to be on the lookout for. I thought I would be safe from unwanted advances on another planet but no such luck I guess. “But I can’t really argue. I mean, they were so weird about it, it’s hard to take this seriously. Now that I think about it, I didn’t even get everything they were saying. There was a new word I didn’t know and the translator was set to ‘Human to Eridian’ only. I couldn’t figure out what it meant but they kept saying they'd want to do it with me? Or to me?”
That makes Rocky pay attention. Adrian also stops picking up some of the stuff I have lying around and leans closer. I wish they wouldn’t always start cleaning up as soon as they step into my home, it makes me feel like a slob. I'd like to think I've gotten a lot better at keeping my living space clean but my version of tidy is barely acceptable to Adrian. They have just gotten worse about it ever since the underwear incident during the field trip.
“How did it sound?”
I’ve gotten better at mimicking the Eridian language. Some words are and will always be beyond the limits of my vocal cords but with a bit of practice I’ve managed to copy some of the sounds by whistling and clicking. The way Rocky and Adrian often have to suppress their amusement when I try tells me that my pronunciation leaves a lot to be desired for which is why I don’t really do it in front of strangers and rather rely on the translator. But the Eridian said this phrase so many times (and so insistently) that I’m pretty sure I can recite it in my sleep.
Maybe that should have been my first warning.
I wet my lips.
“It sounded like ♫♬♩♫♬♩ ♬♩♬♩♫♩”
There is one brief moment of complete stillness before the room explodes into activity. Adrian drops everything they’ve been holding and jerks forward, towering over me. Their sudden movement makes me yelp and fall backwards off of the cushion. Good thing I was already on the floor so the fall isn’t far or painful but my heart is racing. Adrian arranges their limbs around me and hunker down far enough that I’m forced to stay flat on my back if I don’t want to hit my head against their carapace. Despite my precarious position I don't feel threatened. Nothing Adrian does could ever feel threatening to me, despite their size.
It’s Rocky that worries me more. My friend has grown rigid. I only ever see him this still when he’s sleeping. As soon as Adrian has positioned themselves, caging me in between their five limbs protectively, Rocky jumps up from his loafed position so violently that the chess board goes flying.
I was losing anyway, so I’m not too mad about that.
But I’m certainly confused.
“What-?”
“Rocky will kill them,” he growls, scuttling up and down my living room. “No, Rocky will tear them apart piece by piece and then he will kill them.”
“Ooookay? I take it ♫♬♩♫♬♩ ♬♩♬♩♫♩ means something bad bad bad?”
Adrian hisses at me and Rocky shrieks at a frequency my ears can barely pick up.
“Don’t repeat that,” my giant protector admonishes from above me. “That is… Dearest Grace should not use that kind of language. It is… filthy. Not suitable for you.”
Any other time I would have been annoyed at being treated like a delicate flower but maybe I really don’t want to know what the word means. I haven’t seen Rocky this agitated in a long time. And Adrian? Adrian is usually the one who calms us both down when things get a bit heated but they seem just as disturbed as their mate.
It doesn’t paint a pretty picture.
“I will take care of this,” Rocky promises and makes a beeline for the door.
“I thought we were just going to ignore them? Wasn’t that the plan?”
“New plan!” Rocky stops at the door and points a claw at me. I’m still lying on my back, my legs draped over the cushion, and I feel a little ridiculous. I’d kinda like to sit up but something tells me Adrian might not let me. They are strung tighter than a guitar. “No one talks to Grace like that! Grace is my human, statement!” Adrian doesn't move but for some reason I still get the impression of a pointed glare and Rocky corrects: “Our human!”
He’s almost out the door when my voice stops him cold.
“Rocky.” I say and watch him hesitate. “They are your late crewmate’s mate.”
At the reminder he makes a sound deep in his carapace, a low and mournful keening. I want to go to him, comfort him. But Adrian hunkers down even more. I can feel them vibrate through my chest and lift my hands to press them against their body, not to push them away but to reassure them that I’m not going anywhere.
Rocky quickly runs back and climbs on top of Adrian. He presses himself against their body for a few seconds and I get the feeling that they are communicating in that subvocal range that I can’t hear. Then my friend slides down and presses himself against my side where I am still trapped.
“I will not kill them,” he mutters near my ear. “For crewmate’s sake. But,” He straightens up and grips my arm right where the scar in the form of his handprint sits. “They disrespected my Grace. Lonely or not, that is not acceptable.”
“Ah buddy, it’s really nice that you want to defend my virtue and all, but I’m a grown man and I can- HEY!”
In the time it takes me to blink, Rocky is already out the door. I don’t even entertain the thought of trying to follow him. Instead I glance up at Adrian who I know will guard me until Rocky returns.
I sigh.
If I have to lie here and be bored out of my mind, I might as well share some very important human knowledge.
“Have I ever told you about this youtube series about toilets?”