“To keep up appearances, I stomp my room and slam the door.”

“Shepley stomped into the apartment and slammed the door behind him. “She’s fucking impossible!” I kissed Travis on the cheek. “That’s my cue.” “Good luck,” Travis said. I slid in beside America, and she huffed. “He’s fucking impossible!”

“What the monkey!” My dad slammed through my door and burst into my room wearing nothing but his bathrobe.We all looked up at him in surprise. “You tell us,” I said.“Oh.” My dad actually looked sheepish. “It’s one o’clock in the morning and I was going to tell you to shut the monkey up and go to bed. I didn’t realize what wasgoing on in here.”“What’s going on in here?” Cameron asked suspiciously.“Maturity.” My dad backed out of the room and closed the door.”

“If I could slam the door, I would. If I could walk to another room, I would. The best I can do is turn and head for the far corner of my cell. In prison, even goodbyes are beyond my control.”

“Hey,508! Your room is right above mine. You never said."St. Clair smiles. "Maybe I didn't want you blaming me for keeping you up at night with my noisy stomping boots.""Dude.You do stomp.""I know.I'm sorry." He laughs and holds the door open for me.His room is neater than I expected. I always picture the guys with disgusting bedrooms-mountains of soiled boxer shorts and sweat-stained undershirts,unmade beds with sheets that haven't been changed in weeks, posters of beer bottles and women in neon bikinis,empty soda cans and chip bags,and random bits of model airplanes and discarded video games.s”

“Stomp stomp. Whirr. Pleased to be of service.Shut up.Thank you.Stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp. Whirr. Thank you for making a simple door very happy.Hope your diodes rot.Thank you. Have a nice day.Stomp stomp stomp stomp. Whirr. It is my pleasure to open for you...Zark off....and my satisfaction to close again with the knowledge of a job well done.I said zark off.Thank you for listening to this message.”