The Uninvited Houseguest
If I were some timid young thing, I'd have run off crying by now.
But knowing what was about to happen, I wasn't nervous at all. If anything, I was looking forward to it.
I stood up and looked at Mr. Gabelman.
"I need the projector."
"I told you to handwrite it. Why do you need a projector?"
I stared back at him silently.
"Fine, fine—use it. Let's see how you spent all night reflecting."
I plugged my USB drive into the computer and pulled up yesterday's video.
The moment I hit play, the first thing that came through the speakers was a string of obscene moans—a woman's heavy breathing instantly flooded the entire office.