The alarm blared like it was personally offended.
Luca didn't budge.
It blared again—louder, angrier, judgmental.
Noel groaned. "Kill it," he muttered, half-asleep, before slapping the clock like it owed him money.
A beat of silence.
Then Luca mumbled into the pillow, "Did we win?"
"No," Noel muttered, rubbing his face. "We have an exam in less than an hour."
That got him.
Luca sat up so fast he nearly hit his head on the wall. "Wait—what time is it?!"
"7:42."
"WE'RE DEAD."
They scrambled. Clothes flew. A pen rolled under the bed. Luca almost wore two different socks. Noel brushed his teeth while reading a sticky note stuck to the mirror: Elasticity = responsiveness.
Neither of them could find their ID cards.
Luca shouted from beneath a hoodie mountain, "Where's my stamp sheet?!"
"You literally packed it last night—check your bag!" Noel called back, tossing him his jacket. "And your hair's a mess."
"So is my GPA, babe! Priorities!"
