Free Ceaseless by Abbi Glines

Get your  lazy  ass up. We have class in ten minutes,” Miranda was yelling at me while pelting me with her pillow.
                   I groaned,  rolled over ,  and blocked the onslaught  of her feather pillow. “I’m awake . You can stop now.”
                   “It’s about time. I tried everything else. I’ve been awake for over an hour. Your stupid  alarm clock  made sure I woke up. How you slept through that annoying beeping is beyond me.”
                   “I slept through the alarm clock?” I asked sit t ing up and squinting my eyes from the sun ’ s rays. It was after eight  o’clock . I wasn’t going to make it to  my  Literature  class  on time. Crap.  Great first impression.
                   “Yeah ,  you did. That’s like happened, never. What did you do ,  take a  sleeping pill ?”
                   I stood up and stretched.  “No I just slept really good,” I paused and thought about the strange darkness and the music. The voice and the song… “There was this song,” I said then stopped. Miranda would think I’d lost my mind.
                   “No time to talk about song s right now. Here ,  throw this on  and go brush your stinky teeth. We  gotta  go. Good thing you look hot without makeup.”
                   Miranda shoved a pair of shorts and a shirt into my arms  a nd  pushed me  into  the bathroom. I guess I wouldn’t tell her about my song.  Although ,   I wanted to tell someone.
     
                   Dank wasn’t in literature class. I was disappointed he hadn’t shown up and  carried  my book s,  but  relieved  because   I  could  focus on my work.  Being able to listen and focus would insure I passed this course . Day one and we already had an assignment.  We also ha d to work in groups. Not my thing.  Three girls and three guys  per  group.  We had to read three different works of literature about self-destructive men. Then we had to write a female point - of - view paper and a male point - of - view paper on exactly how the males in the assigned stories were self - destructive. W e also had to identify  w ho   we could  relate them to today and  describe how this self-destruction affected  politics.
                   I shoved  my books into my bag  and  headed to the board to read the group  assignments .  Each person in our group had an  email address  beside their name so that we could contact each other once we’d read  the first  book , Ethan  Frome .  I was a step ahead. I’d already read it. The line was dwindling  because  several people left without looking.  I walked up and scanned the list for  my name .
    Keith  Fromer
    Pagan Moore
    Jessi   Gilheart
    Jackson  Driver
    Maddy   McGowin
    Dank Walker
    I stopped reading the names and glanced behind me. How was  Dank’s  name on here? He wasn’t in this class. Was he? The girl behind me cleared her throat in an irritate d  manner.  I took a quick picture of the people in my group and their  email addresses   with my iPhone and moved  out of the way.
    Had Dank skipped class?
     
    Dank
                   By the time I was finished with souls, I was too late  to go to  literature class with Pagan. I hated I’d missed  an opportunity  to sit by her but I’d stayed late last night  to  s i ng her to sleep.  That  was something I missed. I couldn’t bring myself to leave until I knew she was sleeping peacefully.
                   The doors to the English building opened and Pagan came walking out with a frown on her face. I didn’t like for her to be unhappy. I walked out of my hiding spot and into her path.
                   “Oh! Dank. You’re here. ” She seemed surprised.
                   “Yeah. Were you hoping I’d dropped out?” I asked