White Lies Give Red Eyes

Pace Yourself (Beyoncé POV.)

I crane my neck to look up at the alarm clock on my desk as it blares noisily with no end in sight. "Just ten more minutes man," I groaned, pulling brown cotton sheets over my tired eyes tossing curly dirty blonde hair. The sun rises from the east filling the windows of my dorm as I toss to the side to avoid the orange tint behind my closed eyes. It was six in the morning in Houston, Texas and for the first time in a long time (to my pleasant surprise) I had no duties that had to be done this morning. No extra homework. No uniforms that needed to be sown. No itineraries that needed fixing. No annoying calls from parents.

Just the best sleep of my life in months within plush covers that swaddled me from head to toe. I was halfway off the bed with my left ankle dangling off the end, my caramel colored face flush against a silver silk pillowcase pressed against the headboard. My body relaxed further, becoming heavy like lead trying to infuse myself with the mattress. Fern would be back any minute and though I loved her to death, I wouldn't be able to get any sleep if she came back right now — and I so desperately needed those extra ten minutes. As if on cue, the door knob begins to rattle and my ears perk up to the sound of jangling keys.

The deepest sigh of my life emanates from my body.

Fuck. You. Fern.

"Wooh!" She drops her keys in a bowl near the door, "wait you're still asleep?!" Her feet move across the carpet with the quickness, bounding past me (smelling of pine) to the clothing rack on her side of the room. "I was trying too!" I groaned folding the pillow over my face just as my alarm went off again. "Damn, I'm sorry." I could hear the sound of her stripping off her clothes. The garments hit the floor with a squishy, heavy thud. Sweat. "Congrats on going to the gym," I suck my teeth, "it's about time you made use of that membership you only use twice a month."

"Seriously, Yoncé?! You know what? Go on ahead and take your mad ass back to bed." Fern said while grabbing her robe, underwear, and a set of fresh new clothes. Yawning into an upright position, I stretch my limbs, feeling comfort in the muscles along my body clench and unclench from six hours of rest. My blonde hair sticks to the back of my cool, sleep shirt, before I sweep the curls over my shoulders like a curtain while I fluff my hair. "Not like I can go back to sleep, anyways." I grumbled swinging my legs to stand on the floor only to trip over the large suitcase I forgot I put next to my bed the night before. Landing on my forearm with a shock to my nerves, I make a loud sound and reach to cradle my stinging elbow. "Fuck!" Since when did I get in the habit of placing my things so lazily like this? Fern must be rubbing off on me. I pause for a moment to soothe the ache in my tailbone. "Aye, Yoncé! Are you good?!" She could be heard laughing over the steady stream of shower water coming from the bathroom and I rolled my eyes. "You couldn't be assed to tell me that I'd left my suitcase right by my bed?!!"

"You know I'm not good at remembering things!"

"You literally just walked in! Like, you saw it when you just walked in!!"

She laughs again. "My bad Bey, breakfast is on me!"

"Damn right!" I agree finally standing up. "And lunch, and dinner too!"

"That's the crankiness talking!"

I don't respond and start unzipping my suitcase.

Fuck my back.

"Yoncé!"

"JUST SHUT UP AND SHOWER!!" I yell, frustrated at the pain prickling at my back from tripping over my own suitcase on our dorm's hard carpet floor — multiplied by the pain of not being able to see my last ten minutes through. I needed that ten.

Now staring at my half packed suitcase the memory of what I was supposed to be doing dawned on me; the Breckenridge trip. After dropping out of the Houston Cougars cheer squad my sophomore year last semester, a few friends of mine from Alpha Kappa Delta Phi invited me to join this group called the Adventure Club located in the North Student Center. It's supposed to be a club for anyone who has the "thirst for adventure", life lessons, and to develop community with your fellow undergrads. It's run by the only resident Polish language Professor on campus, Mr. Kozlak. He's a tall 6 '3 fellow, has short (neatly cut) blonde hair, with a milky white tint to his slight round build, is one of the friendliest professors on campus and one of the only men I know that knows how to motivate a group of over a dozen college students to do things they never thought of doing. I hopped up to my feet to pull some shirts out of my dresser to go into my suitcase. Admittingly, I didn't just join the Adventure Club for the sake of it — in fact I had fully intended on using my newly allotted free period to practice my sowing at my parents house (twenty minutes from campus), but after attending the first entry meeting I had seen more than enough to get me to stay.