As I was about to finish my countdown, suddenly, whoever was in the bathroom coughed and spit through the window. A mass of saliva and phlegm shot into the lilac bush, attached itself to a branch, and dripped down the bark.

Just from the sound of the cough alone, I knew it was Shawn, not Jason. I'd lived with him for a long time. I was sure it was him. If I'd raised my head a moment earlier, he would have seen me.

I held my breath.

I heard him grumbling and gasping as he struggled to wash his hands while one of them was shot through and bandaged.

Then he left.

Another fifteen minutes passed, and I heard the rangers saying goodbye to my mom.

Crap.

Jason hadn't gone to the bathroom. Screw him and his frigging big-ass bladder.

But just when I started to crawl away from beneath the window, someone hurried into the bathroom. Instantly I heard a heavy stream of piss churning into the toilet bowl.

I didn't waste any time. I peeked quickly through the window and ducked back down.

It was Jason. I could only see the back of his head, but I was sure it was him.

I stood quietly, raised the gun, and pointed it through the window directly at him. 

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