I stared at my desk with a level of exhaustion that can only be achieved through extensive practice. Monday morning, 7:53 AM, seven minutes before homeroom starts.
My head rested against the cool laminate surface while my brain ran on emergency power only.
"Dude. Are you alive?" Felix's voice hovered somewhere above me.
I made a noncommittal sound that could have been interpreted as anything from "yes" to "please let me die in peace."
"Long weekend or something?" Felix pressed, his voice carrying that particular tone of someone who smells gossip. I could hear the rustling of his contraband chip bag.
"You look worse than that time you worked a double shift at the Velvet Room and then came straight to school for finals."
"You could say that," I mumbled into the desk.
The truth was, I hadn't slept. At all. Iris had extracted every detail about The Kiss.
Then I spent the night staring at the ceiling. Scenarios. Theories. Outcomes. By sunrise, my brain was scrambled eggs
