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109. I just want sometime with my friends.

My gaze travels up the hand. It is a very meaty arm if I do say so myself, veined as if it belongs to a boxer, clad in a short-sleeved shirt. Then comes a broad shoulder, connected to a thick neck. And then there is a square jaw, a gritting mouth, a flared nose, and eyes that are glaring at me so hard that I feel I should have perished under the diamond-cut hardness in them.

I blink as this strange dude keeps glaring at me, bent towards me so his face is only inches away from me, unmoving like a rock. For a moment, I’m not certain what I’m supposed to do.

This is highly unexpected. I notice that the cafeteria had turned silent, and my friends are all wearing the same signs of confusion I am.

Before I can open my mouth, Louise asks, “hey man, what’s wrong?”

He is ignored, and the only reaction he gets from the man is a nostril flare.

How interesting.

“Look, buddy,” I finally find my voice, “is there anything I can help you with?” I do not even sound peeved. I’m genuinely curious as to
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