Sebastian
Night has fallen by the time I leave the bathroom. I only do it because I’m starving and Shel keeps trying to break the door down the wrong way. In the main room, the beds are still pushed together against one wall, but now an array of fast food is laid out on the cheap comforters. Shel is digging into Whataburger like it’s the only meal she’s ever eaten.
“Got some of everything, since we didn’t know what you’d like,” Diego says, then adds in a fully audible aside, “Truthfully, that was Vile’s idea, I don’t actually give a shit.”
He picks a foot long sub and somehow makes it look like an hors d'oeuvre in his massive hand. Without asking, Shel picks up a burrito and chucks it at me like a football. In a quick volley, she launches a handful of hot sauce packets after it. I catch
