It’s Wednesday, quarter after two in the afternoon. Sean camps out on one of the comfy armchairs scattered around the study floor in the Student Union—a disposable plate teeters precariously on the arm of the chair, a half-eaten ham sandwich and a handful of chips all that remain from Sean’s quick lunch. He has forty-five minutes until his next class and a quiz he hasn’t studied for yet, so he sits cross-legged in the chair, his heavy Biology textbook open on his lap. His eyes are beginning to blur from trying to cram for the quiz. Why can’t today be tomorrow? he wonders. Then he’d have practice to look forward to instead of Bio lecture, and he’d be getting with Cordero shortly thereafter.
Though, Tuesday? They didn’t just connect after practice, as they usually did. Sean’s cell rang an h
