Eleanor hit snooze at least 6 times this morning. Now it was 5:45 AM and she was regretting every decision she ever made and had 15 minutes to get from her room to her 6 AM computer security and forensics class (with Silas of all people, who was totally going to grill her ass for being late). Seriously though, what kind of speed were these professors doing to be able to teach classes at zero dark thirty?
She laid in bed for 3 more minutes, dying inside, before jumping out of bed and throwing on some proper clothes. She ran to brush her teeth (record timing) and then was out the door. 7 minutes left to get to class. Good luck, Summers.
She was looking down at her phone as she walked out of her building, tweeting her earlier thought about professors and zero dark thirty, when she bumped into someone. She looked up from her phone, “Sorry about that. This is why I should really stop tweeting while walking. My periphery is kind of shit.”
The trick to being up early was not going to sleep. It wasn’t the best idea Skye’d ever had, but ruining a reputation for making good decisions would require having one in the first place. Plus, it helped her respond to Silas’s SOS message right after she’d received it, in it more exclamation points than letters and wearing the 5 am timestamp with pride. As the part of her brain responsible for saying ‘no’ had promptly decided it was too tired to be triggered that morning, she found herself with a list of people she’d have to deliver the news to,only after her first order of business - caffeine - was checked off the list. Skye trudged through the campus against the cold wind (all that was missing was a soulful rendition of “On My Own” from Les Mis), desperately gripping onto the coffee in her left hand for some kind of warmth, the right one occupied with texting half-assed apologies to people on the behalf of the man. Bumping into someone made her snap out of the haze she was in, though with a significant delay. Sleep deprivation really wasn’t a good look on her.
“The ‘use more than five letters, an uppercase letter and at least one number in your password’ class is off,” Skye declared once she’d recognised the face, any intention of a proper greeting slipping her mind immediately. “Silas would’ve slid into your DM’s to say it, but we all know it’s impossible to fit anything in 140 characters when you actively use the words ‘lugubrious’ and ‘lethiferous’ in your daily vocabulary. Which, by the way, are the ones he used to describe the situation to me. I assume they mean something along the lines of sad and that I’m pronouncing them incorrectly.”
