Grant tilts his head back slightly. I'd Rather Do Than Shoot Myself. Grant grins at him, far too cheerfully. Alex puts a hand on his shoulder. This gets a half-hearted snort and a shrug.
Grant slouches a little further with conscious insouciance.
He'll figure out part of it when I don't leave with him. Alex reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a strip of paper. And you can call him and tell him to keep his hands to himself. Grant quirks a brow at him. Or I'll meet him on the Common at five minutes before dawn.