Spencer James Ryder

“No, really,” Cassie said, standing up. “I don’t get it. You’re trying to insult me, but I don’t get why.” And you’re not doing a very good job of it, either, she thought in her head, though the words felt too cruel to let out.

“Either I’m just overlooking or there’s someone envious because I was the MVP and my team beat their team in flag football. I really hope it’s not the latter ‘cause I don’t look good in a towel.” Ivy frowned at her misfortune. “I’ll be fine, I guess. Do you have an extra shirt that you wouldn’t mind lending?”

My friends say I have an active imagination and an open heart. Personally, I think I’m just excitable. But animals are one of my favourite things, I’d do anything for them.

He nodded, clapping excitedly. “Yes! That’s it, that’s her. She’s great.” at the mention of Latin, his ears perked up. “That’s so cool! That’s like a dead people’s language. French is easy. Then again, languages get easier with the more you know. Like, some words in Spanish sound the same in Italian. Es bien facil, en serio. Sometimes I don’t notice when I switch languages.” wait, they were talking about something else, what was it again? He thought for a while before snapping his fingers, “Oh yeah, people are shitty. Figlio’s di puttana’s, but you get over it.”

“You should be the lovely person you are and go get my shirt for me so that I can prevent humiliating myself. Please?”

“What happened are you okay? Ivy why don’t you have a shirt?” Spencer face was filled with worry. “If anyone did this to you on purpose I swear I’m gonna...”

Who do you ship with my muse?

I asked my uncle if he cut people open at his job today and now he calls me the Butcher.

Should I be scared?