Just as the door was in reach and my freedom was eminent, I heard the familiar, yet unappealing, call of his voice. There had been only one flaw in my otherwise perfect excuse, and that was that there was no doctor, only a ten-story hospital that was impossible to get an appointment at. My chance of escape dropped just then to zero percent.

Being dragged kicking and screaming back to the table, however, wasn’t the worst part since the rest of that afternoon was taken up with his ramblings of the “good old times” and every detail of every day of high school. It was like he was one of those stalker kids who’re obsessed with every thing you do, ‘cause there was nothing I did back then that he didn’t know or still remember.

I had given up, after the first attempt, in escaping. Instead I attempted to drown him out with cup after cup of steaming hot coffee.