William wailed. "I don't know who I am!" He dashed away, towards the opposite direction. He slowed to a slow walk once he was near his class. Cool and composed on the outside, inside he was roiling. He sat at his desk and watched as the teacher started talking about accounting. He already knew the basics. It was easy to tune out her monotone voice. To think instead of everything he'd said to Angel. Had the artist not realized how hard it had been to speak his thoughts like that? Probably not, and knowing that made Will want to cry.