First message
I grumble audibly in the silence of the library. I’ve been here all fuckin’ day studying—only one other person has been here as long as I have, a guy I recognize from one of my evening classes, and he looks weirdly fine: not frustrated, not tired, just… at ease reading. I kind of hate him. I lean back in my chair all of the way, my back arching and my head back, and close my eyes. I better not fail this class.