log for mcgill_pride.
Nothing appeased Alice's guilt about the Wilson Situation. No amount of reading, or burrowing into John's chest, or sleeping, or swimming had assuaged the sick feeling in her gut. Meddling doesn't help. Should've just let the boys fight it out on their own. After another listless afternoon of folding and unfolding herself on her bed, she got up to get dressed. She didn't overdress - just a pair of jeans and the wifebeater she'd arrived with - and padded down the stairs to Wilson's room.
She knocked a few times on his door and stood back, half-hoping he wouldn't be there. She could go watch John jog, go read, go do anything but look like an idiot. But she figured apologizing would at least make her feel better.
She knocked a few times on his door and stood back, half-hoping he wouldn't be there. She could go watch John jog, go read, go do anything but look like an idiot. But she figured apologizing would at least make her feel better.