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Depressing? Maybe a little. Even though few would have looked for him and he can only name maybe two or three that he assumed would, the likelihood of him asking is low. Instead of feeling bad about the truth, he simply tells himself, I probably don’t want to know. Problem solved.

"What have you been doing?"

That's a good way of thinking. To be honest, he does it too; just more so along of the lines of I don't want to know and I don't care more than just not wishing to be enlightened. Lacking the self pity or the empathy with himself is easier than having it, even if it makes him come off like a brick wall to everyone else.

Again, he thinks to himself; gaze casting to the floor. He's been doing a lot recently, more so than he'd like to. For starters, he was in some sort of death match over a gnome. After that he'd stayed in his room for awhile, as he normally did. Then once everyone returned, he'd watched the school start to kill each other and people drop like flies. Pretty eventful, at least in his perspective. His answer, however, is as simple as he is. "Nothing. You?"

"Months?" Surely if he’d been missing for months people would have gone searching for him, right? Or maybe because it was months, people gave up. All he knew was people had for sure gone looking to find him. Yep. He sincerely believed that. "I guess you really lose track of days when you’re surrounded by food and darkness with no sense of time."

Well that's depressing. No one aside from Craig had really gone looking and he had only really sat around at different points of the school and waited for that stupid face to show up. Of course, he'd felt as if a few faces had all sporadically vanished within the same intervals, Clyde included, but he wasn't sure about that. He might have just been dreaming it or thinking about the idea of it occuring. Who knew.

"..." He stares for a moment, unsure as what to say to that until finally, "That's messed up." pries itself from his thoughts.

"Sure." He’ll let the subject drop, since he was only doing it chidingly anyway. It wasn’t like he really thought Craig was checking him out, especially in the halls like this. "Some storage area, I think." With a shrug, he dug hands into his jacket pockets. "I was just looking around and the door shut and locked behind me. I feel like I was trapped in there for weeks. Haha."

Weeks? That was strange, especially considering it had been weeks. Surely he knew that, right? Or wait. Was this one of those stupid scenarios where something crazy happened and no one would remember but him? Tt. Of course. He should have known better than to think it'd be gone when he left home.

"Months."

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"Liar."

Hopefully someone did see. That way, Craig wouldn’t go around kicking asses anymore and Clyde could freely strut, butt untouched. “I totally caught you checking it out after you hit it.” Though, he’s unsure how to feel about the slight expression.

No, hopefully no one saw anything. Even if they did, he'd still pop his foot against ass every now and then. It was just how he did his thing. Take it as tough love. Sort of. More so just an attention grabber. "I wasn't checking your ass out." Again, he has to make sure that is stated, because he wasn't. Though he had been. He hadn't. At least not in the way this douche was thinking. "Where were you."

Woah. A kick to the ass. That’s certainly an unexpected sensation he didn’t count on having today. With a sharp tightening of his cheeks in surprise and an abrupt turn on his heel, there are those green eyes flashing to whatever weirdo just tried to lightly stick some hard object through his pants and up his butt.

Oh. Just Craig.

"Dude. If you wanted to touch my butt you could have done it with something softer." That aside- "What’s going on?"

#tacosplayingsports #my name is craig and i completely ignore the question just to tell you i dont wanna touch your butt

Hopefully no one is around as he just stared at his friend's luscious rump with one of the most concerned expressions his face could make. Who knew such muscles could be in that thing. Weird. Whatever, though. As disturbing and as strange as it was, he's going to avert his gaze before someone sees.

"I don't want to touch your butt."

Smell of tacos? More like the thermostat just skyrocketed. Yes. He’s here. Where’s his welcome back party?

There is no welcome back party, just a kick straight to the ass. That's right. Cool, killer shoe right up against the butt that disappeared for what seemed like years. God, Clyde. You left him with Reiji the Mom and a bunch of anime weirdos with a side of some other shit.