The alarm beeped. Merida squinted at the clock. Eight already? She groaned and half-rolled off the mattress. The covers came off with her as she stumbled through the bedroom door.
The freshman rooming with her now (Rachel? Rebecca? Something with an
. . . and she had the most
blonde hair) was already gone for her seven o’clock class, the crazy kid, and it was quiet.
She made a face and pulled out her phone. She picked something loud to play while she got ready. First day of her last year here, she thought, yanking a shirt over her wild hair. One more
year, and she’d be off and chasing that sunset. She made a face at herself in the mirror, dribbling toothpaste.
She was hurrying along the sidewalk, schedule in hand. As she checked the building number before heading through the doors, something knocked into her and sent her to the ground.
Her knee hit hard and her jeans shredded, and she hissed at cold of the sidewalk and the sting of the scrape. She pushed herself up to look at the just-ripped fabric.
If there was blood, she was going to—
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