It had to take a seatmate to nudge Emily in the shoulder for her to shake awake and realize that class was over.

"Thank God for minor subjects", she thought.

"Emily!" Toby chimed from behind, his gentle voice, nerd glasses, and mid part hairstyle never ceasing to amuse the brunette.

"So uhm, swimming class is up next, right?" Emily turned to ask, hoping she had it right – because the schedule was still a blur. School had only been going on for about three weeks. And clearly, she did not expect the second trimester of her sophomore year to be such an academic shock. She had pulled all-nighters before, but it was never as bad as she had them since the curriculum changed and the school had to add another grading period to the academic year.

"Yup," Toby answered swiftly as he stood and tapped his foot repeatedly against the floor.

"Do you have to go pee or something?" the brunette queried, noticing the excessive motions her friend was making.

"No, it's just.. Maybe you should hurry up. Class starts in ten minutes," Toby answered as he glanced frantically at his wristwatch.

Emily checked her phone. 14:50 PM.

"Swimming, right?" Emily asked again.

"Yes. Nine minutes, Emily," he said as he stepped towards Emily's chair, motioning for her to get up already. Towering over her, Toby could easily pick her up and carry her to their next class, but he trusts her enough to leave her be and go about doing her own thing. That was why their friendship worked so well. It wasn't your typical boy-girl relationship where eventually one of them falls for the other and they live happily ever after. This one was not like the movies. In fact it was the total opposite, it was almost embarrassing. The Westermarck applied to them, as they grew up together and practically shared Pam Fields for a mother after Toby lost his.

Plus, Emily was gay so there was that.

Slapped back from her thoughts, she gathered her things and stood, slinging her bag across her shoulder. It wasn't until they had walked out of the room when Toby yet again spoke as he noted Emily going another direction.

"Where are you going?"

"Not to class," Emily stated as though it were the most obvious thing ever. She had already taken a few steps towards the building exit.

"But it's swimming!" the tall boy exclaimed.

"Exactly. That's why I know I don't have to go. I can make up next week," she replied.

"But…"

"But nothing, man! Don't tell mom I skipped class! Love you!" Emily yelled as she stepped outside, taking in the sight of the lush green field that embodied Woodridge University.

For a second, she considered going back to her dorm room to take a long nap, but then dismissed the thought right away after thinking about how much work she still had left to do - from minor Theology essays to daunting Biochemistry pre-lab reports.

"Damn."

A s she couldn't work without coffee, she decided to stop by the university café to grab a cup... or three. After all, you can't really OD on coffee, as she had learned last year from one of her classes.

Walking a few buildings away wasn't really a workout at all for her, but today was especially different because Emily was just exhausted from all of the school work she had, and it was only Wednesday! By the time she had reached the coffee shop, she had been crankier than ever; and the need to fan herself grew along with the desperate feeling of needing to sit and rest and ultimately sleep.

Still, fighting the urge to sit on one of the cushioned seats of the Urban Forest Café, she brought herself to stand in line and order her coffee – patience wearing thin, eyes not even focused enough to note the new girl that worked the register. It was a good thing too that there weren't very many customers around at the time, and there was only one person up queue before Emily, and that one person had already taken their order so Emily was up next.

"Hi, I'll have a short-" Emily stopped herself mid-sentence and shook her head when she realized "short" was a serving used in Starbucks and that the Urban Forest served 12 ounces minimum, instead of 8. "Sorry. Force of habit. I meant a regular Americano," she corrected and handed a bill to the blonde girl whose presence she had now begun to notice.

The girl flashed her an undeniably perfect set of pearly whites, followed by a hearty chuckle.

The blonde's short puff of air caused Emily to cough, detecting the faint smell of charred cigarettes in her breath. She had never been one exposed to secondhand smoke, let alone smoking herself. That part, she thought was ridiculous because she got culture shocked when she first entered uni and found way too many college kids smoking their lungs off one at a time. Anyhow, Emily knew better than to punish her respiratory lining with cigarette smoke.

"Can I get your name, please?" the blonde girl spoke, her smile unwavering.

"Em," she replied hard-heartedly. Damn, this girl is way too bubbly. And Jesus Christ she must be a chain smoker. I can smell her from across this counter.

The distance between them wasn't very big though, and Emily was well aware that anyone could smell that on the blonde. It wasn't like Emily was the only one sensing it.

"I'm surprised nobody called the manager on her yet," Emily thought.

"M, as in the letter in the alphabet or Em, as in Emma?" the blonde spoke again. Emily wondered how long she would have to interact with the overly giddy girl and hoped that the barista would finish up on her order soon so that she could finally sit down.

"The letter," Emily lied, in the hopes of getting the blonde girl to just shut up already.

"Oh, well then, M," the blonde said, as she turned to the barista and took Emily's coffee into her hand. "Here you go," she added as she handed Emily the cup.

"Thank you.." Emily's voice subdued, conjuring up enough manners to at least learn the name of the blonde who had tried to chat her up even though she was obviously a zombie walking on campus.

"Alison. My name's Alison. You'd think a cashier around here would catch a break and at least have the benefit of being given a nameplate but apparently not, right?" the other girl answered with the exact same chuckle she let out earlier, which made Emily once again cough on the smell.

"Right. Well.. gotta go," Emily's plans of hanging around the coffee shop were closed down when she agreed she couldn't take another god-awful whiff off of the cigarette junkie in front of her.

"Fucking crazy ass blonde trying to kill people with her cigarette breath.." she thought as she took one last glance at the girl before heading out to her dorm.