You zip open your backpack and begin shoveling the array of bottles adorning the shelf under the bathroom mirror into it. There's some stuff on there that belongs to your sister too, but she always smells nice, and you've always envied the smoothness of her legs. Upon that note, you pilfer her little pink razor. After taking a few other womanly bathroom items which you'll sooner or later have to explain, you turn to the toothbrush rack on the wall. A high-pitched squeal of horror escapes your lips.
Your toothbrush. It.
IT'S TOUCHING. IT'S TOUCHING SOMEONE ELSE'S TOOTHBRUSH. That's
DISGUSTING! How can you put that thing in your mouth now!? You'll
get all sorts of... diseases! What sick person did this!? Oh, you know
very well who did it. That's right, it was you. You were pretending the
toothbrushes were making out, to inspire you during that session of
'pondering.' Yeah yeah, you were a little confused and desperate. Stop