Betrothed to Jack Frost (REWRITTEN)

1) Reality Bites

"A reader lives a thousand lives before they die. The man who never reads lives only one.' - George R. R. Martin
"Full Moon" by the Black Ghosts
__________________________________

A jarring alarm yanked twenty-year-old Elle Darrow from her slumber. Groaning, she burrowed deeper under her pillow, wishing she could stay cocooned in the warmth of her bed. This Tuesday held nothing but dread: two part-time jobs and a ten-page essay due Friday. Despite having had weeks to work on it, Elle had procrastinated to the last minute. The mere thought of the looming project jolted her awake as she struggled to clear the sleep from her eyes. "If it's not good, you'll get a C," she reminded herself, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and stretching out her stiff muscles. Her legs and side ached, a painful reminder of yesterday's mishaps at the fifties-themed diner where she worked. After an eight-year-old had spilled soda all over the floor, Elle had fallen twice while mopping in her mandatory roller skates—a near nightmarish experience.

The dread of receiving a C was Elle's greatest fear, a looming shadow over her academic aspirations. A C would jeopardize her partial scholarship, and a B-minus was hardly any better. Realizing she needed to pull herself together, Elle knew she had to produce a dazzling essay for Professor Dodger by Monday. As she dragged herself out of bed, the thought of staying under the covers and catching up on sleep was tempting. But she couldn't afford to let her academic performance slide. Today, Elle needed to be at her best—academically and otherwise.

Sometimes, Elle wished she could just lie in bed and let the world drift by. Her life was an endless cycle of busyness, with no room for relaxation. Since her father's death, she had immersed herself in academics, leaving no space for a social life. Her days were consumed by work, short stories, and essays—all in pursuit of a partial scholarship to cover the rest of her college expenses. In her rare free moments, she helped her grandmother tend to the nursery garden. Even in January, the greenhouses required meticulous care to ensure the plants would be ready by Mother's Day. As Elle prepared for the day, she donned her orange and white checkered knee-length dress and applied minimal makeup. The reflection in the mirror showed a weariness she couldn't hide. Dark circles under her big brown eyes and a pallor that spoke of too little sunlight made her look like a walking cliché of winter's toll. Her usually creamy complexion appeared sallow, a stark contrast to the vibrant, sunlit days she missed.

After brushing her long, dark hair into a loose ponytail, Elle glanced at the clock. It was barely seven in the morning. By eight, she needed to be at Checkers & Spades for her breakfast shift, and by noon, she had classes to attend. After three back-to-back classes ending at seven, she would head to her grandmother's to tend to the nursery. A devastating thunderstorm two months prior had decimated their stock, leaving only a dwindling number of flowers to salvage. Elle and her grandparents had to work tirelessly to save what remained. Some nights, she found herself using battery-operated grow lights to keep the plants warm. "Evangeline, dear! Aiden's here to drive you to school," Grace Darrow called from downstairs, urging Elle to hurry.

Swinging her backpack over her shoulder, Elle quickly stuffed the remaining books from her desk into her bag and dashed out the door. She had no time to worry about her unwritten essay; the day ahead was far too demanding. As she hurried down the stairs, Elle knew her grandparents would insist on breakfast despite her protests. They were old-fashioned farmers who believed that a hearty breakfast was essential for starting the day right.

Elle didn't mind the coffee. In fact, she looked forward to it. It would soothe her nerves and provide the caffeine boost she needed to stay alert through her classes. As she rushed to the foyer, her grandmother was already waiting with a container of freshly brewed coffee and a bagel. Elle gave the woman a quick hug. "You don't have to feed me every morning, Grams," Elle said with a grateful smile.