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Behind ht away “Bobby?” comes Jimmy’s voice, soft and worried

“I’m fine,” I say, not even sure if it’s true “I’m fine”

“Bobby, fuck, you’re bleeding”

“I’ him anymore, totally blind, my vision blurred by tears every time I try to open my eyes

“Mr Parker,” co at o to , if you would kindly leave the theater, I—”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Jimmy blurts at once “I was … Anthony and I were … I was just—”

“Mr Strong, please leave Mr Myers, a fresh batch of popcorn please I’entleain “Mr Parker, please go upstairs and wait for me in my office I have a fallen customer to assist”

Still cradling my nose, I back away fro up to the projectionist booth and the office, a: “None of this was Bobby’s fault This wasn’t his fault I’ But Anthony started this, and—Are you listening to me? It wasn’t Bobby’s fault! It was that fucker, hiant-faced fucker behind the concession stand I’!”

And so am I

The noise of the lobby shuts when the door at my back does

Up the stairs, I go

By the time I’m seated in the one chair in front of Mr Lemon’s desk, my nose is weirdly nu shard of stone caught in it so sand granules up his nose for no good reason Everything’s still blurry The office is eerily silent All I hear isin hin one slow breath at a tieneration Mac, a wor out its back

I’m totally numb, even in my mind

I taste blood on my upper lip

Jih it’s a strangely difficult concept to s at this point in ti to hurt Anthony

I sniffle once

It sounds gross and clogged and clumpy

He didn’t mean to hurt me