I'll probably believe you. Campione's the liar. [ looks back pointedly, unfortunately still visibly red ] There's nothing wrong with you. I have a boy chest, but I'm okay with that.
Xerxes picks at loose threads on the collar of his shirt, only worrying the tear further open. The shirt's ruined anyhow, it doesn't matter.
"Y's just a. A real piece of work, you know?" He wasn't even sure how to describe him. He never was, Y always evaded description. Slippery shit that he was. "You just stay away from him. And me! Stay away from us. We're assholes. All of us. Just go ahead and get the fuck outta Wammy's now." He shuffled down the hallway as he talked, trying to get out of the view of the majority of the students. "While you still have a boy chest, yeah? Teenagers are crazy sex maniacs and they're all insane."
