Lost CauseI looked up at the sound of a thud as I walked into the room. Timebomb was hastily sitting back in his chair. An old tattered copy of Treasure Island sat on the table across from him. He looked like he was trying his best to ignore it or to look inconspicuous. I grinned slightly and carried a hand full of scrap metal over to the work bench.
“Whatcha doing?” I inquired.
“Huh? Oh nothing.”
“That’s one of my favorites,” I continued, setting up the scrap metal. “I must have read it five times back in 101. How far are you?”
There was a pause. I turned away from the table and looked at him. He looked a little lost now, as if he didn't know how to answer the question.
“Um, not that far,” said unconvincingly.
“Well what’s happened so far?”
He paused again and frowned as if he were thinking.
“Uh… Not a whole lot,” He rested his chin on his palm and covered his mouth with his fingers. His eyes l