"Wait. This happened already. Something's too heavy. I can't get up. I can't move. Something's on me. Is it that cloud again? I can't see anything. Wa...t. I can see the clock. Hi, clock! Hi, Clocky. Clocky, clock. You rhyme with cock, clock. Three-hundred inches long, just like me!"And then I laughed like a maniac. I remember the clock on the dresser said 3 a.m., a three and two zeroes, exactly: three-hundred. Suddenly I was trying to figure out how I'd gotten home into my own bed again.Then my. As Ryan went on about the room smelling like a bordello I wondered if he knew what a whorehouse smelled like. But unlike me, he was a real college sophomore after all, and I was technically still in high school pretending to be a college student. If Sioban was an example of what a typical Brit girl was like, he was just living in a society where the girls were more sophisticated about sex than their American counterparts. Ryan was knowledgeable enough to voluntarily vacate the room so Sioban. More

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