I sit at a table in the back of the library, books flying over my head. George's head rests in an ancient Astronomy book, snoring. I shake my head and laugh at him, magicking his hair black. I grab a marker out of a bag and draw three stars on his wrist.
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He snaps awake.
Me: Morning sleepyhead.
GW: Oh, uh, morning. What time is it?
Me: Ten fourteen.
GW: In the morning?
Me: At night.
GW: Woah, uh, how did we get here?
Me: We came to the library to finish your Astronomy paper and you fell asleep. You were out for five hours.
GW: Five?
Me: Yeah. I've just sat here and drawn. I also finished your essay.
GW: No way!
Me: Shh. It's fourteen minutes past curfew.
GW: Sorry. No way. Thank you. Can I see the art?
Me: They're just doodles. Oh, and I may have scribbled a bit on your essay.
GW: Show me the drawings you made.
Me: Fine.
I hand him over the papers and he eyes them lovingly.
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