Landry's Pov
The door shuts behind us with a dull thud, cutting off the noise of the corridor.
I do not speak.
I head straight for the bedroom, dragging the tattered remains of my polo shirt over my head more sharply than necessary before throwing it into the back of my open wardrobe.
"f**k’s sake," I mutter.
Owen watches me for a moment as he pulls off his own shirt far more carefully.
"Well," he says after a beat, "that was interesting."
I glance at him.
"Was it?"
His mouth twitches, like he is deciding exactly how attached he is to living.
"It went well," he says.
I reach for my school shirt.
"For her."
Amusement creeps into his voice on the last two words.
I let out a short breath through my nose and pull the shirt on.
The fabric catches against my split lip when I move
