The “wild times” rule was simple: no destruction, no blood, no complaints. Everything else was fair game.
“You’re bleeding,” she said.
“That’s a concussion waiting to happen,” Leo said. dare dorm wild times
Leo touched his lip. A little blood. “Worth it.” The “wild times” rule was simple: no destruction,
“See you on the other side,” Leo said, and pushed off. ” Leo said
Leo stared at his phone, then at the mountain of untouched calculus homework. He was the quiet one on the third floor, known for his tea collection and ability to sleep through fire alarms. Wild, to him, meant using two sugars.
But finals were over. And something about the late hour, the empty halls, the primal energy of a building full of stressed students snapping—it got to him.