Room 502, Thursday Afternoon

It had been an interesting night last night in the common room, and a more interesting morning on the roof. The island was playing with Romeo's hormones, Ender said; Romeo wasn't honestly sure he would have figured out anything was especially wrong without that discussion.

For now, he was going to lie back on his bed with his journal, and will very hard that his girlfriend psychically sense his, ahem, time of need before he'd filled the whole thing with the sorts of odes to girls' hair he thought he had outgrown years before.

[OOC: For one, please! And NWS. I know, you're stunned.]