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f o u r

Sloane

The sharp ring of my alarm jolts me from a deep sleep, and I fumble blindly for my phone, groaning as I hit the snooze button. The room is still cloaked in early morning darkness, the only light coming from the faint glow of my screen. For a few blissful moments, I lie there, cocooned in the warmth of my blankets, willing myself to fall back asleep. But it's too late. The reality of another day has already started to seep in.

With a resigned sigh, I roll over and squint at the clock on my nightstand. 7:00 AM. My class doesn't start until nine, but I have a mountain of reading to catch up on, not to mention the essay that's due next week. Groaning, I sit up and stretch, feeling the familiar ache in my shoulders from yesterday's events at the rink. It's nothing I can't handle, but the persistent soreness is a reminder that I need to start taking better care of myself.

I drag myself out of bed and shuffle over to the bathroom, the cold tile floor sending a shock through my bare feet. As I splash water on my face, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Dark circles under my eyes, hair sticking up in every direction—yep, I look as tired as I feel. I make a half-hearted attempt to tame my hair, but eventually give up and tie it into a messy bun. It's not like anyone's going to be paying attention to me in class anyway.

By the time I'm dressed and somewhat presentable, Hazel is already up and about. The smell of coffee wafts through the apartment, and I follow it like a moth to a flame, finding her in the kitchen, pouring herself a cup.

"Morning," she says cheerfully, handing me a mug. "Rough night?"

"You have no idea," I reply, taking a grateful sip of the steaming coffee. "My eyes were too stubborn to close. I swear to God one of these days I will just give up on trying to sleep."

"Speaking of stubborn, where's Harper?" I ask, glancing around the kitchen. "I thought she was gonna be making breakfast."

"Oh, she's still sulking because I wouldn't let her use my coffee mug," Hazel says with a grin. "Apparently, she's going to get back at me by making the popcorn for our movie night tonight extra salty."

"Harper would," I say, shaking my head with a smile. "Well, I'd better get going. I've got a ton of reading to do before class."

Hazel waves me off as I head back to my room, grabbing my backpack and stuffing it with the textbooks and notes I'll need for the day. As I sling it over my shoulder, I catch sight of the small plant on my windowsill—a gift from my grandparents when I moved in. It's a resilient little thing, but even it's starting to droop from neglect. I make a mental note to water it later, but right now, I have more pressing concerns.

The walk to campus is brisk, the early morning air still cool enough to make me pull my jacket tighter around me. Students are already bustling about, some chatting in groups, others with their noses buried in their phones. I weave through the crowd, my thoughts drifting back to Malachi. Despite how much he annoys me, I can't help but think about what Hazel said—maybe there's something else going on with him, something that's driving his overprotective behavior.