After hours of arguing with myself last night about how things went with Nash and my minor mental breakdown, I finally drifted off to sleep in the wee hours of the morning. However, it didn't last long. After only a few hours of sleep, I found myself awake again with a throbbing migraine and the realization of promising to meet Becca at eight.
Dark glasses on and my hair piled on top of my head, I sat outside under the morning sun, sipping on the cold brew I had ordered twenty minutes before. The ice slowly melted as I relished the feeling of the warm morning rays shining down on my skin.
It wasn't unlike Becca to be late, and as I scanned the courtyard where I perched, I watched her rush from the double doors of the dorm building and head straight for me. I glanced down at my phone to
