Eighteen year-old Zach Curtis has lost everything: his girlfriend, his job and his scholarship. Nothing in the world matters anymore, until he receives a rude awakening from a stranger.
Petite and awkward, Terra Quinn is living the life with her bes...
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– Zach –
Two hours, that was it.
I click the morning alarm shut as I rest my heavy head on my pillow. Two hours of sleep, again. That's the third night in a row now. I sometimes wonder how I'm not dead.
Climbing out of bed, I pull the curtains apart, immediately regretting it when the glaring sunlight penetrates the room, causing me to turn blind for a second. I sigh, rubbing my eyes wearily. My foot comes in contact with a rough piece of paper by accident, and I pick it up hesitantly. I spent the entire night working on Mr. Lee's assignment, and from my depressing memory, I barely got anywhere.
It'd be a lot easier to slack and leech off my team's hard work, but I clearly can't afford to take that risk. No way am I going to take a chance at dropping out again. I need to make it through, even if it means figuratively murdering my brain cells in the process.
I gaze at the city below me, yawning at the very sight of busy pedestrians. Mornings can be such a pain. My eyes fall onto a girl with dark brown hair, walking by herself down the street. She's just a stranger, but she reminds me of Terra, and I'm beginning to feel worried again.
Granted, we all have secrets. I'm hiding a few of my own, and I don't plan on sharing them with anyone I know for as long as possible. It must be the same for Terra, and so I should understand how she feels about wanting others being kept in the dark, even if it's the worst idea. But it's not possible for others to turn a blind eye like that, it's impossible for me not to care. I can play dumb for a while, but the more I do it, the more the voices inside my head screams for me not to.
Something's wrong, it can't get any more obvious than this.
I run a hand through my untidy hair, absentmindedly scrolling through random contents on my phone. I scan through the group message by Daniel for a brisk moment, just friendly reminders about the club meeting today followed by a few unrelated memes by Samuel.
My fingers start moving on its own and I find myself navigating to Terra. I have things I'd like to say to her, but at the same time, I don't. I tap on the tiny icon on the screen, looking at her profile. She's wearing a vibrant smile in her usual oversized sweaters, her bubbly nature impossible to dismiss. I can almost hear her laugh, but I felt nothing of the kind when I saw her with James last night.
It's all I've been able to think about, even when I was cleaning my desk full of dusty pencil shavings, even when I was doing research on various graphics on multiple websites, even when I was searching for my missing marker and sharpening blunt pencils, she's all I've been able to think about.
I've never felt this restless before, not for someone else.
Carefully, I put my phone away, her smile being the last thing I remember. Ever since I've been pulled into the support group, I've been getting involved with others more than I could have ever imagined, but I might have been involving myself in all the wrong matters. Despite the praises from Daniel, I haven't been doing a very good job.
