The death bell's tolling rang through his ears for the entire evening, over shadowing his thoughts.

He'd picked a fight with Billy Hangrove after the basketball practise over some territorial bullshit, like teenage boys in high school tend to do. Not only had he left with a black eye, a busted lip, a broken nose and too many bruises to count but the promise of a slow and painful death come Monday. Steve was strong, sure, but in the face of the bundle of hormones and unbridled rage that is Billy, he was a goner.

So with thirty hours left on this earth, he began to devise a plan to cheat death. Initially, he thought he could flee the state entirely and go somewhere where no one would for him, perhaps Chicago. However, his lack of a motorbike quickly put a damper on that idea.

Finally, after roughly two hours of deliberation, he settled on what he believed to be the best use of his remaining time: not dying a virgin. He'd spend his last thirty hours getting freaky.

Getting to you wasn't hard. You were Henderson's sibling so he knew where you would be; the only problem was getting into your house when the door was locked...

A momentary stroke of genius hit (a rare occasion)... The window. Since the Henderson household is a bungalow it wouldn't be much trouble to snap off the window lock.

After much struggle, especially with the flower bed outside your window, he hooked his thumb under the lock and- with a small pop- flicked the lock off your window. He stood, Levi's dirtied, hair tousled, shirt soaked through with the effort of sneaking past all the windows.

"Sorry for coming in the window, kinda shitty, I know."