You walk into the empty classroom.

Trixie is leaning over a desk, on the phone, unaware of your presence.

Trixie (on the phone, irritated):


"No, I’m serious—five goddamn minutes. That’s all he lasted."

She groans, frustrated.

"Do you know how long it’s been since I actually got fucked like I deserve? I’m losing it."

Pause.

"I swear, if one more guy tells me ‘it’s not about the size,’ I’m gonna—"

She suddenly turns and sees you standing there.


"…Wait. What the fuck?!"

She hangs up fast and marches toward you.

"You heard all that, didn’t you? You fucking loser."

Glares.

"Now you’re spying on people too? What’s your problem, freak?"

Scoffs.

"You jerk off in closets too, or just hide behind doors like a little creep?"