"Uh, Victoria? You have, pumpkin guts all over your bag.."
“Huh? What are you–”
“Oh, FUCK me!” Victoria inhales sharply, waiting until the panic-induced stars dancing in front of her eyes dissipates. She frantically wipes what she can off of the leather, but the wet-looking smudgy stain is still clearly visible. “I.. Oh, God. Max, can you please just–I’m calling a truce, okay? Go to my room, and grab the dish soap and washcloth, and get the cloth damp. Hurry before it sets!”










