Sane

Chapter 20

Brookhaven , New York

Dezmon's POV

The blaring sound of my alarm jolted me awake, and I squinted at the time, feeling a rush of panic. "Shit, Niya, wake up! We're about to be late!" I called out, scrambling out of bed. The room was a mess, a testament to our late-night movie marathon and the whirlwind of planning that had consumed us over the past few days.

Niya groaned from the other side of the room, clearly as disoriented as I was. She glanced around, realizing with a sinking feeling that she didn't have any more clean clothes here. My mind raced as I tried to figure out a solution.

"Here," I said, tossing her one of my hoodies and a pair of sweatpants. "You can wear these. You still have some fresh underwear in my top drawer."

She blinked at me sleepily, then nodded, understanding the urgency. As she got dressed, I rummaged through my own limited options, settling on a slightly wrinkled shirt and jeans that I hoped would pass muster.

We moved around the room in a synchronized chaos, brushing teeth, grabbing backpacks, and trying to make ourselves look presentable in record time. Despite the rush, there was an unspoken rhythm to our movements—years of friendship had made us adept at navigating mornings like these.

As we finally dashed out the door, I couldn't help but chuckle at our reflection in the hallway mirror. Niya looked effortlessly cool in my oversized hoodie, her hair pulled back into a quick ponytail. It was moments like these that reminded me how seamlessly we fit into each other's lives.

The drive to school was a blur of traffic lights and hurried sips of coffee from a thermos I'd managed to fill before leaving. Niya fiddled with the radio, landing on a station playing an upbeat track that helped shake off the last remnants of sleepiness.

"We've got this," she said confidently as we pulled into the school parking lot with minutes to spare. Her words were more than just about making it on time—they were about everything we were juggling: school, our plan to take down my boss, and the looming graduation.

I nodded, feeling a surge of determination. "Yeah, we do."

As we stepped into the bustling hallway, the familiar sights and sounds of school life enveloped us. Friends waved hello, teachers hurried past with stacks of papers, and lockers clanged open and shut in a chaotic symphony.

Despite the normalcy around us, I knew today was anything but ordinary. We had classes to attend and plans to finalize—all while maintaining an air of normalcy that belied the gravity of our situation.

The day unfolded in a series of classes where I tried my best to focus on lectures while mentally ticking off items from our plan's checklist. Every now and then, Niya would catch my eye across the room or during passing periods, offering a reassuring smile that kept me grounded.

By lunchtime, we found ourselves at our usual spot under the big oak tree in the courtyard. The sun filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on our textbooks spread out between us.

"How are you holding up?" Niya asked between bites of her sandwich.

"Better now," I admitted. "It's just...a lot."

She nodded knowingly. "I get it. But we're almost there."

Her confidence was infectious. As we talked through our next steps—balancing school commitments with our mission—I felt a renewed sense of purpose. We were in this together, and that made all the difference.

The rest of the day flew by in a whirlwind of notes and whispered conversations about contingencies and backup plans. By the time the final bell rang, signaling the end of another school day, I felt both exhausted and invigorated.

As we headed back to my place to continue working on our plan, I realized that despite everything—the stress, the uncertainty—I wouldn't trade this partnership for anything. Niya was more than just my partner in this crazy endeavor; she was my anchor.

And together, we'd face whatever came next—one step closer to graduation and a future that was finally within reach.