Michael would have to assume that was what they were doing, because the other option was that they were stamping exactly in tune to a strange beat thumping in his ears. The dweeby looking kid in front of him laughed and knocked shoes with him in a complicated sort of masculine handshake. “Jeremy my buddy, how’s it hanging, lunch is banging, got my sushi and my slushie and more!” Michael didn’t realize that he had fallen asleep in the theater until he found himself holding a slushie in one hand, a gross package of sushi in the other, and singing in a high school hallway.
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