Me? ...Twenty-two. [He's thirty.]

And you are very bright. Good job explaining everything so I don't have to.

[Anything to avoid lengthy explanations. Allison would be a great person to approach about that, even without her voice. She could write it all down. Maybe he'll point this kid in her direction if she ever shows up. She'd love him for it.

As he's about to follow the girl, he takes a step off the curb and his ankle twists up in a most uncomfortable manner. His foot erupts into fiery pain and he falls flat on his face. He lays there a moment before groaning and letting out a belated:] OW.

[Another moment and he's pushing himself up on his elbows, wincing. He grips some of his hair in both hands and just lays there in pain.]

I hate sobriety.

[This can hardly be blamed for his current predicament, but it does mean he doesn't feel like he can laugh it off as easily. Right after he grates this out in frustration, a street light that hadn't even been lit above him bursts, bits of glass raining down on him. He tilts his head upward and stares at its remains.]

...Well shit, I did it.