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Eventually, I have to accept the fact that we are in a public restroom and this cannot go on forever. I push Mitch away, much to his dismay.

"Sarah. We can ditch the football game."

Is he kidding? I already ditched the theatre FOR the football game. And I love the theatre. And I have no clue about American football.

Wait, why did I say yes to the game?

Right. Revenge.

But do I really need to be there for that..?

Yes. Jenna will mess up.

I'm sure it'll be fun, anyway. There might be cheerleaders. I've only ever seen them on tv.

"Mitch, we're going."

He mumbles a "fine, whatever". Got to remember he IS a 19 year old boy, however mature he seems sometimes.

I drag a reluctant Mitch out into the foyer, where First Aid Man is still hanging around. Doesn't he have somewhere else to be? SURELY someone else in this hotel requires a plaster or something?

Ninja skills: activate.

I try my best to sneak past him, going on my tip toes and basically not breathing, but Mitch decides this is a good time to find me funny and actually LAUGH, rather than the usual eye brow raise.

The guy turns around and makes a bee-line for me. Rats.

"Oh! Hey. I was just, uh, coming over to you. Mr..."

I'm so smooth.

"You okay, lady? Your head get banged up?"

No. Didn't you see? It got SQUISHED.

"No. I'm 100% A-OK!"

A-OK? What?

I can hear Mitch sniggering. Like he's never said anything dumb. If I really wanted to, I could compile a fair few clips of him doing exactly that. But I won't, because I'm nice. I'll wait until his birthday.

Birthday? Do I expect to be with him by then?

Am I even with him now?

When is his birthday, anyway?

Oh my god, am I older than him??

It would be by a few months, but still. That scares me.

"Uh, lady? Are you alright?"

The first aid guy is eyeing me suspiciously.

Oh, I'm fine. Just having one of my mini-meltdowns.

"You want to lie down?"

That one came from Mitch. Sarcastically, I bet.

I'm sure he'd like me to lie down.

"Nope!" I say with a grin. "I'm fine! Definitely not concussed, or anything like that. Totally fine."

May have oversold it.

Oh well. I'm leaving, anyway. If that cab is still there, we've paid a lot for it to stay stationary.

I decide to push the little wheelchair button to go out of an alternative door. No particular reason why.

This is also funny, apparently, if Mitch stifling his giggles is anything to go by.

Seriously, I'm going to start charging him.

Wait. No. I take that back.

I look around outside but the taxi is no longer here.

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