"Yes, see, I knew you were good to talk to," Max says. "It's like—you can't stop or you'll die. Like a shark."
He takes another swig before patting you clumsily on the shoulder.
"You know what's what," he tells you.
You sit and talk until Max is halfway down the bottle. He stumbles to his feet. "You should think about joining me and the Starlings, you know," he says. "We could do with someone who knows how to get out of trouble. Of course, you'll have to prove yourself. But isn't that what we're all about here?"
"Naturally," Max says.
He stretches his arms up with a tired groan.
"Come on," he says, "let's get back."
You meander back to the dorm together; Max occasionally stumbles and stifles laughter. The dorm is dark and silent when you return, and you quickly fall into a dreamless sleep.
The Weeks Roll On