The Phenomena of Fireflies and Star... - Chapter 10: Chapter 10

October 6, 2023
Two Weeks Later
Andrade Residence
7:25 AM
Max put on his most important costume for the moment: the apron. It was his turn to make breakfast for Ames and himself. They'd established an alternating schedule, each one taking on a different set of chores every single day. Today, Max was cooking.
Max caught his reflection in the meat cleaver hanging on the rack above the kitchen counter before him. The much shorter hairstyle was starting to look better than its earlier days. Ames had done the honors of cutting Max's hair for him, but the guy's skill hadn't been the most refined, and the whole funny thing had taken them two hours too long to fix the choppy hair situation. The problem had been solved eventually, and now Max could walk around in a public place without potential embarrassment. Ames had also bought for him a new pair of non-prescription glasses for public use. He looked good in them.
"Gabriel!" he heard Ames call out from the bedroom. "Help!"
Alarmed, Max left his kitchenware and hurried up to the bedroom.
"It's "Max Angeles" now, remember?" he whispered to Ames, who looked very spooked as he stood by the doorway in his red bathrobe. "What's going on?"
"There's something in the bathroom," Ames was catching his breath as he reported. It had been a while since Max had seen Ames so bothered, but it surely looked adorable. "What? It's fricking scary."
"What is it?" Max chuckled as he went to the well-lit bathroom beside the large armoire, entering it immediately. He couldn't see anything that would spook someone like Ames. "I really can't see anything."
"On the floor, on the floor," Ames insisted.
"Where?" Max demanded, looking at the floor for whatever Ames was going crazy about it. There was nothing there...
Except...
"This little millipede?" Max asked, bursting into laughter at the sight of the dead critter. "It's all curled up! Did you step on it?"
Ames crossed his arms before him stubbornly.
"I guess!" Ames answered. He really looked stressed out.
Over a millipede.
"You stepped on the poor thing?" Max pressed on, trying to keep his mouth from grinning too tauntingly.
"I don't know, Gab—screw it—Max," Ames slapped a palm onto his forehead in surrender. "Please, just get rid of it. It's disgusting."
"Okay, okay," Max lifted his hands in surrender, sealing his lips to stop himself from laughing.
"Please don't laugh at me, Max," Ames warned. "Please don't do that. Worms scare the crap out of me."
"It's an arthropod," Max pointed out, taking a tissue square and picking up the poor millipede.
"If it's wiggly and it crawls, it's a worm to me," Ames insisted. "And I don't like it."
"This is going in the trash," Max announced as he threw the tissue containing the millipede into the nearby trashcan. "It's not gonna' come back to life to get you."
Ames was just looking at him with an almost accusatory glare. Max found it rather cute.
"It's gone," Max mouthed as he made his way out of the bathroom and back to Ames.
"Why are you laughing at me?" Ames complained, whispering harshly in disappointment.
"Because it's uncharacteristic of you to be afraid of something so harmless," Max pointed out, also in a whisper. He then reached out and ruffled Ames's hair just to tease him one last time.
"Well, Basic Psychology 101, Max," Ames replied, rolling his eyes as Max continued to mess up his hair. "That's what you call a "phobia", and it doesn't make a single lick of sense. It just is. Please don't do that."
"What?" Max giggled, stopping his little tease. "You're going to drench it, anyway."
"Fine," Ames sighed, shaking his head. "You win. As always."
"Who's the boss?" Max asked jokingly.
"You," Ames replied, pushing his way past Max with a hint of a smile on his face.
"I'm kidding," Max said. "You're the boss, and you better not take so long 'cause food is gonna' be ready soon."
"Okay, sir," Ames replied, glancing back at him with a funny face.
'Adorable,' Max thought, sighing at the cuteness of it all. 'I have to get back to cooking.'
Max had just finished cooking breakfast when Ames walked down the stairs. Ames had put on a gray tank top, slim fit black jeans, and what seemed to Max as a long black cardigan. It was so long, it hung to just below Ames's knees. He looked good. It was a different style of clothing, but it really did suit Ames. He surely looked like he was going somewhere.
Max was still in his house wear: a plain white shirt paired with gray sweatpants. The apron was the finishing touch.
"You look like you're going somewhere," Max said as he put the plates and utensils over their place mats.
"Oh, yeah," Ames replied, pulling his chair back and taking a seat. "Wow. The tocino smells like it tastes good."
"Of course it does," Max declared proudly, setting the apron aside and sitting down on his own chair opposite Ames's. "Out of all the Enforcers, I have the best cooking skills. In case you didn't know."
"Oh, really?" Ames asked teasingly, nodding exaggeratedly as he took a slice of tocino and put it in his mouth.
"Oh, really," Max repeated, enjoying a tocino slice of his own.
It didn't take long for Ames's eyes to widen in pleasant surprise. Max felt it.
"It's a little too salty...," Ames pretended, forcing a grimace after gulping down his piece.
"No, it's not," Max insisted. "You're a terrible liar."
"You're right," Ames gave up rather easily, proceeding to take a whole piece for himself. "This is really good."
"See?" Max replied, taking his own whole piece. After taking their rice portions, they continued with their meals.
"So, I just completed my work on The Mastermind," Ames shared after a few minutes.
"Oh, yeah, your program?" Max asked. "You completed it?"
"Hell, yes," Ames replied proudly. "I'm also very ready to defend it. I haven't even gathered user data yet, but I know I can defend it. And rock it. And get that degree."
Max had witnessed how Ames took his program seriously. Someone had dropped by the gate about two weeks ago to give Ames a flash drive. Ames hadn't taken long to run it and work on it on his own laptop. Max hadn't really understood how Ames had done it, but the guy had pulled it off. Seeing how invested Ames had been in something he considered important had been interesting enough for Max to stay up late with the guy and watch him work.
Soon, Ames would be getting that doctorate degree. Max would be there to cheer him on. That should mean career advancement opportunities for Ames. Max probably would never fully understand. As smart as he was, even prior to his transformation, he had only gotten to finish high school and hadn't really gone to a formal college or any graduate school. The learning program he'd had in HQ had been constructed differently, meant to service unconventional learners with unconventional and slightly more practical learning modules. It had felt like a college on its own, but Max had been told that it wouldn't be credited in any standard college or graduate school. Everything that he had been taught had serviced him well as a superhero and a superhuman, but it had been more focused on building up the "super" than the "human".
"It's gonna' be so awesome to call you Doc," Max commented. "I know you'll get it all done."
"Thank you," Ames said, taking a spoonful. "I'm gonna' be going somewhere today, by the way. You're gonna' be fine on your own, right?"
"Don't you want me to come with you?" Max offered the idea. He could really use a change of environment. A good other option would be something new to do.
"It's kinda' personal," Ames replied, scrunching his nose emphatically. "I'm sorry."
"Nah, it's fine," Max said, brushing off Ames's concern. He was just about done with his food. "I'll take watch here."
"Take watch," Ames repeated, snorting a bit. "Sounds very military. Very action hero."
"What?" Max reacted, taking a sip of water. "It's not. It's... Is it?"
"Mhmm," Ames uttered.
They finished the rest of their meals at about the same time.
"Oh," Max said. "Hey, um, do you happen to have any books around? Like, your college books or work books?"
"Books," Ames replied. "Yeah, I do. Most of them are course-specific, but I do have some fiction, too. College books, I keep in a box upstairs. The work books and fictional books, I keep on a big shelf in my bedroom. That, you've already seen."
"Right," Max said. "May I borrow them?"
"Sure, sure," Ames answered, nodding. "Feel free. But why? You interested?"
"Well," Max began. He wasn't sure how to properly say it, but he guessed it would be better to just be fully honest about it. "I didn't go to college. Always wanted to. Wanted to be a teacher like you. I can't go to college for obvious reasons, so if I want to learn, I'll have to learn in unconventional means."
Max noticed Ames smiling at him as he spoke.
"That makes me happy as a teacher," Ames commented. "To see your interest in learning. So yeah, feel free to borrow them."
'Yes!' Max thought. He loved to read. He truly did. He liked to learn. If things had been different for him, he probably would've been on a doctorate path already, too.
"Thank you," Max said. "I hope I'm not pushing it too far."
"You aren't," Ames replied, drinking his water before standing up and picking up his plate. Max followed him to the sink. "I'm going to brush my teeth, and I'm gonna' go. If you need my help with the washing, I can stay for a while."
"No," Max said. "No. I got this right here."
"Okay," Ames answered, putting the rest of his utensils into the sink. Max did, too.
"You take care, okay, Ames?" Max said to Ames, who had started walking toward the stairs.
Ames had been going out a few times in the past two weeks, but they'd all been small errands and Max had always been with him. This was the first time that Ames was going out alone. Max had to admit, he was kind of worried about that. Then again, Max didn't want Ames to feel like he needed his back covered the whole time. As vulnerable as he could be, and as helpless as he was when it came to worms and arthropods, he possessed a strength of character that was palpable.
Max didn't want to dishonor that.
Ames stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked back at him.
"If you want...," Ames said. "I can teach you."
Max could only look back at him in disbelief.
"Teach me?" Max asked. "Like, everything you know?"
"If you want me to," Ames replied, nodding emphatically. "I don't always have time to give, but I'll give when I do. If you want me to."
That was definitely something to look forward to. Max was quite thrilled by the idea of Ames teaching him. He had neither witnessed nor experienced it, but he'd seen Ames's capacity for patience and professionalism. As embarrassing as it was to add to Ames's troubles, it was an opportunity that Max knew he'd punch himself out for missing.
"I'd love that," Max replied. "You won't regret having me as a student. I swear."
He raised his hand as if in pledge, much to Ames's amusement.
"I have a feeling I won't," Ames replied, winking at him before heading up the stairs.
The White Flowers Cemetery
8:55 AM
With a small vase of roses, Ames walked down the cemented pathway while his eyes traced the lines of flat headstones. It was next to the pathway, thirty-three rows down. After a few more steps, he finally found it.
He stopped right before Harvey's flat headstone.
It was stinging him in a deep place inside of him, but he hadn't visited in quite a while. He hadn't been sure how to manage it. He hadn't been sure back then how to move on. He had thought that visiting Harvey often and frequently revisiting the pain he had felt would be dissonant with moving forward.
He'd been grieving for over five months, following a loop of sorrow, anger, and resentment. In all of those months, he'd been struggling with how he was going to push himself forward to healing while resisting the temptation to be dependent on medication. There had been nights when the idea of an overdose had sounded inviting. Strongly so. Then again, that probably wouldn't have worked, and then he consequently would've felt stupider than he'd already felt.
Losing Harvey had felt like being flayed. Skinned alive. Left in a tragic mess, all vulnerabilities exposed for the vultures to ravage. The pain that Ames had needed to bear every single day had made him want to die. At the back of his mind, every single day, he had wanted to die. Just for some inner peace. Some end to the grief. Harvey had become such a substantial part of his life that losing him had felt like surviving a frustrated homicide and being left in a state of dying, at the apex of pain and desperation, for what had felt like forever.
At the same time, a part of him had also wanted to live. He had wanted to live. He'd wanted to prove to Harvey how strong he was. How durable he was.
From the stench of the pit of wanting to die and writhing in an unceasing grief, he had channeled all of his anger into pushing himself to achieve as much as he could. He was not known to be weak. He had never been known to be weak.
But Harvey had since been part of that foundation. What Ames had built in himself, Harvey had been a part of. Removing the heart of it all had left Ames clamoring to fill in the gaps. He'd been left with a hole in his chest, and for a while, it had been filled with pain.
Next, he'd filled it with fire.
"SPO2 Harvey Beethoven Montenegro," the second engraving of the headstone read. The first engraving was that of the name of Harvey's father. The late Benedicto Montenegro had been killed by a brain tumor. It was tragic and unnerving how Harvey had died in a way that was similar in many aspects. Harvey and his father shared a single grave plot, and the ways their lives had ended had a dark irony to them that, in retrospect, had started to feel like a curse or anything of the sort.
Ames bent down and carefully placed the vase on the upper left corner of the headstone. The red flowers contrasted the black marble headstone beautifully.
Down on one knee to support himself, he proceeded to swipe away the grass shavings that had found their way to the surface of the headstone.
For a moment, while he did that, he had an arresting flashback of when he'd wake up next to Harvey. He'd always woken up first. He had developed a habit of gliding his hand over Harvey's handsome sleeping face. Harvey had always woken up to that.
And he'd always smiled warmly after.
Ames felt a slight stab of pain in his chest that slithered in its extension all the way up to his throat. It was slow, but it was steady. It was a constriction that creeped slowly, stretching out like hawthorn vines and gripping him domineeringly.
He knew that, in a while, there would be tears.
He also had a feeling, however, that they would be fewer than they normally were.
He cleared his throat first, not wanting to sob before he could get his words out.
He pushed the constriction down as hard as he could.
"Hey, babe," he finally managed to start. "I'm sorry it took a while for me to revisit you."
The sun was shining above him, but the sea of clouds provided good enough coverage. The wind was soft, but it was consistent.
"I've been through quite a lot recently."
"I honestly don't know how to explain myself, but a lot of things have changed. Sometimes, it feels like I'm lost. I always find my way anyway. It's just that I find my way out, and I get scared that the farther I move, the farther I'll go from what we've built together."
In his mind, Ames pictured Harvey in their bayside date. He could prolong the normalcy of his memories of Harvey, but they all ended up with visions of his lifeless face. It was as if Ames had been cursed to not even remember him properly. It was as if it was meant to prevent him from healing, because he couldn't even peacefully put Harvey to rest anymore.
He loved Harvey. He always had. All those years together, gone.
Ames, however, had done some thinking. He'd been thinking a lot. He had fought so hard to keep going, but his grief had been just as stubborn. Not to mention, he had fought a literal superhuman in a fit of rage.
The consequence: the corruption of his memories of Harvey.
Ames felt like he'd caused enough damage to Harvey's memory already. He couldn't bring himself to keep abusing it anymore. Harvey was a good man. He was the epitome of what it meant to be a good man. Ames had always put him on that pedestal like a crown to its king.
Like a king to his throne.
"I love you, Harvey," Ames said, feeling his throat tighten and his eyes well up. "And every single day, I push myself to love you a tiny bit differently. It's killing me. It was."
"For a long time, all I wanted was to kill Malign for what he did to you. For taking you from me in our happiest moment. Even though the thirst to kill had dissipated over time, the rage remained. Rage gave birth to darkness. I grew familiar with the darkness."
Ames's eyes were really stinging this time.
"I don't know what you did wrong. I don't know why he'd do that to you. Especially in front of me."
He could remember so vividly how it had happened.
How Malign had killed Harvey.
He could remember how Malign had taken out the strongest man Ames had ever known with a finger on the forehead. It seemed as if it was the only memory that didn't warp out into another vision of Harvey's lifeless face, but that was because it was the most painful and most horrifying memory. There was no beating it.
Ames could feel tears flow down his face. Down to the headstone.
"I could never kill him, Harvey. I was powerless. But he took you from me, and he made me a monster. I did get some good hits in."
"I made sure he felt them. I made sure I stood out among his other victims."
"I made sure he would remember me as the person who messed up his plans."
"It's probably the only thing I'll be able to do to give you justice, Harvey."
Ames planted a gentle hand right over Harvey's name on the headstone.
"I kind of messed it up. I'm sorry."
"I can't even think of you now without seeing what happened..."
"He has tainted our memories forever."
"I'm guessing that's because he knows I revisit them without meaning to. Because they're ours."
"Because I love you."
Ames brushed his face against the fabric on his shoulder, wiping the tears off.
"I don't want to remember you as a victim," Ames declared, sighing heavily in the attempt to speak clearly. His tears were being intrusive, and he really needed to say these words now. "Because, to me, you are a good man. A hero. A survivor. Not a victim. No one can surpass you."
He had to do what he knew was coming next. It was painful, but it made the most sense. It was the only option that remained.
Ames wasn't going to let Malign win. Ames wasn't going to give Malign the satisfaction of his suffering and Harvey's dishonor anymore.
"I love you, Harvey," Ames said again, unable to stop another outpour of tears. He couldn't stop the sobs that broke out disrespectfully out of his mouth and interrupted his breathing. The stinging heat of the moisture in his eyes made everything feel worse. "I love you, and I always will. Time will change what that means to me, but I want you to know that we built our story on a foundation of love."
He pictured Harvey one last time.
Harvey's beautiful face, his warm smile, his strength...
Ames pictured Harvey one last time in their moment by the bay. He pictured out the man's thoughtful gaze toward the sea.
With as much mental strength as Ames could, he remembered their last kiss. He imagined himself leaning closer to Harvey's face and closing his eyes just before the heartwarming meeting of their lips. Just like how he'd done it that night.
Before he could watch the memory distort again, Ames released a lengthy breath.
"I'm ready," Ames said, removing his hand from the headstone. "I'm letting you go."
Standing back up, Ames set it in his heart that this was the best way to save their memories.
His eyes were swollen, and his throat was tight. They rebelled against the calm of the environment.
"I hope and pray you finally find your peace," Ames said. "And I pray you guide me to mine."
After another deep breath that felt like a lifetime, Ames put his hand up to his brow in a salute.
He held it there for as long as he felt Harvey deserved.
He had buried Harvey in pain months ago, but this time, he was sealing their memories in a moment in time that Malign couldn't ever corrupt: a moment in time that had been felt sincerely and wholeheartedly but not seen.
When Ames lowered his hand, he knew he was adding to his collection of inner scars.
But at least, he knew, as hard as it was to do, his mission for Harvey was now accomplished.
The Eureka Café
9:30 AM
When Eliza spotted him, she immediately got up from her seat on the corner of the café and moved to wrap him in a tight hug.
Ames hugged her back.
Whatever perfume she had on, Ames would love to try. She looked sharp and distinct, like always. The cobalt pantsuit she wore stood out in Ames's sight even from the glass doorway.
Eliza held him by the shoulders and stared right into his face when she pulled back.
"Goodness, have you been crying?" she asked, grabbing his hand and bringing him to the table she'd reserved for them.
Ames sat on the chair adjacent to Eliza's.
"It's been a while," Eliza continued, sitting back down on her seat. She then pushed a tall glass of strawberries and cream frappe toward Ames.
"Thanks," Ames said, taking the glass and taking a sip through the straw. The sweetness really did give him a shake. Eliza had her own order of green tea frappe with added cream. "I've finished The Mastermind, by the way."
Eliza's eyes lit up, her hand clasping Ames's wrist in a blink.
"No way," she gasped.
"Yes way," Ames replied, taking another sip.
"Awesome," Eliza commented. "You were supposed to take a rest, remember? Why'd you work on The Mastermind instead?"
"Well," Ames said. "I couldn't waste time. I just felt like the time was right and ripe."
"Right," Eliza replied, nodding as she stared off into the distance. Something seemed to be on her mind. It also seemed to be something big. She was normally quick-witted and focused in a conversation, but Ames felt he must've said something to take her out of focus. "Yeah. About time and all that jazz..."
"Is something wrong, Elle?" Ames inquired. "You're not usually this reserved with your words."
"No, no," Eliza said, shaking her head as she stared back at Ames. "It's just that I'll be very busy for a while. It's, umm, indefinite, but yeah..."
"Okay..."
"There's this huge deal coming up in Wang Industries, and from what I've heard, we're gonna' be real beaten up when it picks up the pace," Eliza elaborated, gesturing with her hands. "It's this complex logistical dilemma, and I'm over here just anxious about how much this whole bullshit will cost. All I know is that it's gonna' be really, really big."
"You look like you've been restless," Ames commented, making Eliza grimace in agreement. "I mean, you look great, but I don't think I've ever seen you this riled up."
"Don't worry," Eliza replied. "You're not wrong. It's like paying for a roller coaster ride after picking the scariest one. It's like that, and I'm already strapped in, knowing fully well that I could pass out halfway through."
"The similes are worrying me," Ames said, intrigued and concerned. "Maybe you should call for a meeting or..."
"Oh, to be honest, I think I should be called the Meeting Officer at this point," Eliza complained, shaking her head.
"Just when I can finally have a reason to go out again," Ames said, taking a long sip. "You decide to be an office shut-in."
"I know...," Eliza replied. "I can't wait for us to just go out and shop again like we used to. Not to mention, Christmas season is drawing near. The sales, friend. The sales."
"I miss you so much, girl," Ames said, lifting his glass to her. "And I do hope you don't push yourself too far. Again."
"Oh, you know me, friend. I'm gonna' see through what I need to see through," Eliza responded, lifting her own glass and giving Ames a toast. "And once I've dealt with this war, I'm gonna' shop the heck out of Sol's Boutique."
"And movie night?" Ames added.
"You bet your ass," Eliza confirmed, taking a sip so intentionally strong and loud she almost choked on her frappe.
Ames hurried to put his glass down before bursting into laughter at how uncharacteristic that was, even for his best friend.
"Nobody saw that."
"You're a hot mess, girl."
"Hey. So are you."
"That's why you're my bestie, silly."
The Earth's Fountain
Gonzales University of Arts and Sciences
10:12 AM
The fountain was an artistic masterpiece. It was a product of a university-wide collaboration in a project intended for the beautification of the community ground. The large alabaster sculpture of a hollow globe on an axis boasted of fine details and masterful artistry. Excellent engineering, too. How the intricately sculpted globe could stay together and move a bit on its axis was impressive. If Ames could remember correctly, the globe could make a full rotation. The entire globe was a sculpture of multiple camouflaged tiers, and the axis concealed its pump, tubing, and water distribution. The water flowing in the fountain looked crystal clear, and the surface of its basin looked very clean. It was commendable how the fountain had been maintained all this time.
Ames sat on the flat top surface of the basin's outlining walls. It was wide enough to allow for a person to sit upon it. The fountain stood in the intersection of stone paths that boxed the grass areas of the community ground. The community ground itself was almost boxed in by three school buildings and illuminated by natural lighting, thanks to a translucent dome supported by metal trusses.
Despite the overhead coverage, air was still free in its movement around the space.
Ames had discovered that his students from his morning English Literature 1 class loved to hang out in the community ground. To say he missed them was an understatement. He'd always seen them as his children, even if that was a stretch when his age was taken into consideration.
Ames had originally had a week of mandatory leave, but Dr. Masuda had suggested for another week of extension to allow him to grieve. He appreciated it. He'd never really had time to properly process his grief. For months, he'd just been a mess, taking a little too long in a season of anger, desperately trying to channel that fire inside him somewhere productive. Then again, no matter where anybody directed a stream of fire, it would still affect the oxygen in the room or any given space.
There were some students passing by. Some of them recognized him and greeted him as they walked by. Ames had been sitting on the basin wall for a while now, one foot up on the surface.
After a while, the bell rang. Ames felt his excitement revving up. It took about five minutes before students really started pouring out of the buildings. Up ahead, he could see familiar silhouettes approaching. He recognized Amanda and Brighton's tall figures in the shadows of the open but unlit corridor of the building up ahead.
Ames couldn't contain his excitement. When he stood up, he saw his students' silhouettes pause for a while.
"Is that..."
"That's Prof."
"No way..."
"It's him!"
"Prof!" one of the students called out. He recognized it as Geraldine. The silhouette pack hurried out of the corridor and toward him.
The faces of his students really got him. They were so happy, and he missed them very much.
"I hope y'all missed me," Ames joked, grinning as his class surrounded him and engulfed him in an embrace. He almost fell into the fountain basin. Gladly, they were kind enough to drag him a good few meters away from the fountain with their commotion. "Or you'll all get an F!"
'My little pups,' Ames thought as he basked in the noise and the embrace and the excitement of his students. He couldn't hug them all, but he allowed them to be happy.
"We missed you, Prof. Fail or no fail."
"We thought you were gone."
"Yeah, we thought we lost you."
"We thought you died!"
"Can't die easily," Ames replied, feeling a little choked up after they finally let him go. He adjusted his cardigan, which had tipped off his left shoulder in the ruckus. "We still have quizzes coming on."
"Aww, come on!" Brighton complained. "In all honesty, I cried the hardest."
"Whatever, Bright," Amanda responded to him. "I was sobbing."
"You think that's gonna' give you an A in my class?" Ames joked. The energy around him was just so refreshing.
"No, really. I was a mess," Brighton insisted. He seemed convincing. Ames could only laugh at him. "Why won't anybody believe me?"
"Alright, alright," Ames lifted his hands, making his students quiet down and pay attention. "Remember the quiz we have for Lit next week?"
"Oh, we're serious about the quiz thing."
"Yes, we're serious about the quiz thing," Ames replied, prompting mixed reactions from his students. "And guess what?"
It was funny how his students actually stared at him in anticipation. They were always so in the moment and energetic. He wished he had their batteries.
"You all got a perfect score," Ames whispered. "For the English quiz, too. Don't worry about finals exams, either."
The cheers that erupted from them were as loud as expected. He meant his words. Ames knew how particularly difficult his exams could be. As much as he loved his students, he'd always made sure that they actually learned something from him. But for the sake of ending the semester on a happy note, he could be a bit more relaxed with his students and them with him.
"Oh my gosh!"
"Thank God. I haven't studied a word."
'Wait, what?' Ames thought, knowing fully well what he'd just heard. 'Who was that?'