Lincoln lazily dug his hand into the bag of chips, he brought out one and threw it into his mouth, and then he pulled his eyes back to the TV.
He was bored.
So badly.
The sitcom on the TV screen was interesting but he couldn't quite focus on it.
He sighed, and picked up his phone, then stared at the screen.
His eyes widened a bit as he stared at the time.
9:30 PM
It's already nine-thirty? He asked himself. What the hell is he even doing there?
After Ethan had agreed to call him by his real name, Lincoln, instead of Pudding, he had disappeared into his room and had refused to come out since.
What's his deal, really? Lincoln asked himself, rising to his feet. He walked to Ethan's room and knocked softly on the door.
No response came.
He knocked again.
Still no response.
Is he asleep? He wondered. Or is he dead? Why won't this motherfucker answer?
He placed his ear on the door to listen, but he heard no noise from the room.
Huh? Is this guy dead or what? He was still wondering in curiosi
