Thursday. Finally, thursday.
I've never felt so stressed waiting for something that I can barely sleep because I keep thinking about it. What is on that drive? Greg's seen it, Fulton has seen it, the bird probably on the porch of that building has seen it, and yet I haven't.
I'm Mr. Drails's son for goodness sake.
The only reason why he would hide it is because it must say something that might hurt me, or is very personal.
But I have a little doubt about that. Greg's is just trolling me—or was in this case. Today was the day I was going to see what was on that freaking drive.
But let me first ask, how was your week? Was it good? Did you have fun, because I sort of did. I just relaxed, lived a normal life, although summer was going to be coming pretty soon, which could pose a problem.
"Chess" would end, and basically I won't be leaving the house as much as I do for this chess club that's really just sneaking out to be a spy mage agent.
