3. Hannah

THREE

HANNAH

"Before Thursday, you need to read through the case study that starts on page twenty-seven." The ethics professor raises his voice as students close their books. "There will be a quiz, so don't blow this off."

His warning is met with a collective groan, but the professor just chuckles and tells us to have a good day.

I take my time sliding my things into my backpack.

Since I got to this class early— avoiding the quad at all costs after getting caught staring this morning— I overthought every aspect of my seat choice and ended up in the middle of the third row. Figured it was nice to leave the ends open for latecomers and the first rows open for the super students who like to be close enough to reach out and touch the teacher.

Once my row clears out, I stand and do the awkward sideways shuffle out of the narrow space.

I really hate the lecture halls that are set up like this. As if it's not bad enough that the seats themselves are made for skinny people from the 1940s, they also have to make the experience of getting to the seat its own sort of torture.

My sneaker catches on one of the chair legs. But the gods finally smile down on me, and I only tweak my ankle rather than falling onto the floor.

A win is a win.

Pressing my lips together, I take a deep breath through my nose.

This was my last class of the day, and I have forty minutes until my shift at the library, so I can take my time. No need to walk fast on my slightly throbbing ankle. No need to stress.

I melt into the sea of students leaving the building and squint when the afternoon sun lands on my face.

I take another slow inhale.

This is my new normal.

This campus. This schedule.

And I'm going to enjoy it.

I make it another dozen steps before the scent of cooking food wafts through the air.

Duh. How did I forget I have just enough time in my schedule to scarf down a late lunch before work?

I lift my gaze over the shoulders of the group ahead of me, trying to remember how I get to the cafeteria from here.

Left. Right. It all looks the same.

Seriously, why do the people who design college campuses have to make all the buildings identical?

Buildings…

I want to slap my hand to my forehead.

I went out the wrong exit.

I groan in annoyance as I spin around to go back the way I came.

But my groan turns into a croak when I crash into a body.