Morning after

The morning sun was way too bright, and my brain was still swimming in a hazy fog thanks to the brilliant idea of participating in last night’s drinking game.

I groaned, glancing at my phone. 10:15 AM. Great. I had a class in exactly five minutes, and I wasn’t even out of bed yet. Philosophy. Perfect. The only thing worse than trying to understand the meaning of life with a hangover was doing it in front of Professor Daniel, who loved to call on students at their most vulnerable moments.

I scrambled out of bed, throwing on the first semi-clean outfit I could find. No time for coffee. Not even time for dignity.

I burst into the lecture hall like a bat out of cave, hoping, praying, and begging the universe that Evans wouldn’t be there. Surely, the golden boy of this campus would have better things to do than make it to this class. Like, maybe he had to sleep in after last night’s game too, right?

Nope. There he was. Sitting in the front row, all polished and immaculate, not a single hair out of place. His clothes were pressed, his posture perfect, his silvery blonde hair was combed neatly as if he hadn't spent the previous night chugging shots and laughing at me. He looked like he just stepped out of a Ralph Lauren ad. Meanwhile, I was just grateful that my socks matched.

I slid into a seat in the back, attempting to be as invisible as possible. I could feel the hangover pulsating through my skull, and my only goal was survival—make it through this class without drawing any attention.

Professor Daniel droned on about Plato’s Theory of Forms or something, his voice sounding like one continuous hum of static in my head. Just as I was about to give myself a mental high five for blending into the wallpaper, I heard my name.

“Ah, good of you to join us today. I was just about to assign partners for the upcoming project,” Professor Daniel said, glancing right at me.

Oh no. Not now. Not today.

I slouched deeper into my chair, hoping I’d be paired with anyone—*anyone*—who wasn't Evans.

“And you,” he said, locking eyes with me, “will be working with... Mr. Evans.”

I blinked, as if the words hadn’t quite sunk in. There was a beat of silence before Evans turned in his chair, flashing me a smug smile. I swear his teeth actually sparkled.

"Looks like we're partners," he said smoothly, as if we were about to debate philosophy over a glass of wine instead of me trying to avoid throwing up the ghost of last night’s tequila.

I forced a smile, which probably looked more like a grimace. “Great. Awesome. Can’t wait.”

The rest of the class went by in a blur, but not the good kind. More like the kind where you’re on a rollercoaster and realise halfway through that you never wanted to get on in the first place. I spent the entire time avoiding Evans’ gaze, which was impossible since he was in the front row and I could practically feel him oozing perfection from across the room.

Finally, as the class wrapped up, Professor Daniel clapped his hands together. "Remember, this project is a significant portion of your grade, so I expect collaboration and deep philosophical enquiry from each of you."

As we filed out of the room, Evans fell into step besides me, his stride annoyingly confident. “So, when do you want to meet up?"

I shot him a look. “You’re way too chipper for someone who drank like a camel last night.”

He shrugged, his grin widening. “Guess I’m just built differently.”

I groaned inwardly. This project was going to be my death. “Fine,” I muttered. “Tomorrow. Library. And don’t be late.”

Evans winked. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As he walked off, looking every bit like the smug golden boy he was. This project was going to be a long one. Anyway, there was a silver lining; I had a date with Jake tonight.