And all the while, a mental image of Bruce Lee was playing through Matthew’s head. Except instead of telling Matthew to “Be water, my friend,” Bruce’s instructions had changed: Be mouse, my friend. Be mouse.
“The grammar of that is horrifying,” Matthew mumbled. And the thought was hardly helpful, either. Every time Matthew glanced in the rearview he expected to see himself with a twitching nose and whiskers. That wasn’t exactly a power image.
“Afternoon, Doc,” the guard said when he finally reached Matthew’s car. His voice was casual but his eyes never stopped roaming. Front seat, back seat, passenger side, driver side. “You still keeping up with God Eater?”
Matthew’s cheeks felt like plastic as he twisted his lips into a smile. “Oh, come on. I had ten episodes in before you’d even watched two. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: you just don’t know how to binge watch.”