Summary: Because "stupid" isn't an available genre. Drabble, rapid updates.
It's Friday and I count down the minutes until I'll be free from this hellhole for two whole days.
It's been a long week.
All of my weeks have been long since—
I swallow the pain in my chest, pay for the lunch I'm not going to eat, and turn toward the group of tables scattered across the room.
My eyes zero in on the people on their own at the table in the corner. Our table. At least it was before—
I've made it this far; I've only got three and a half hours to go.
I can do this.
I drop my head and go straight for the double doors leading out to the quad.
If I listen hard enough, I can hear his laughter echoing off of the walls and my heart hurts.