𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐲

𝖳 𝗐 𝗈

                                              ☙
I want that time machine back. No one told me that being in college meant that your roommate would wake you up at the devil's hour. Six am, exactly, with no time to process what's happening. Yeah, that pretty much sums up my morning. With Naomi hovering over me, a warm cup of coffee settled in the comfort of her hands.

"At least say that's for me," I say, drowsiness leaking from my pores.

A couple of my stuffed animals fell off my bed, along with half of my cover. My mouth feels dry and yucky, and I'm pretty sure my hair looks like I let a kindergartner practice in it. Then there's the stiffness of my body that won't go away, despite the amount of stretching I've done since waking up. So, yeah, that coffee better be for me.

Naomi nods, placing the cup in my poorly stretched out hand. I mumble my thanks while thinking if life's important enough to move an inch from the comfort of my bed. My body says no, but my mind and most-likely Naomi says yes.

"So, I was thinking we could take a look around the campus today," the girl, herself, speaks. I hum, urging her to continue. "Maybe look at some clubs or whatever they call it in college?"

"Sure," I agree, finally sitting up, "why at six in the morning, though?"

"We need time to do everything!" she exclaims in the upmost excitement.

I share her thoughts and excitement, but it's still six am. I'm not sure my enthusiasm has kicked in, in the slightest. I look over to Naomi's side of the room to see it completely straightened up, with a few empty boxes laying about. My side looks like hurricane henry hit it then came back for seconds. I eye my roommate's sides suspiciously, wondering what voodoo she has going on.

Naomi laughs at my tired, but weird, look and walks back over to my side. I swat her poking hands away, and that gets me a giggle this time. I try to moan and groan my way out of leaving my bed, but, apparently, what Naomi says, goes. At least for today. I can't wake up at the early hours of the morning every day. Sergent will be responsible for paying my therapy bills, hospital bills, or my funeral.

"Come. On. Anika!" Naomi tugs on my blanket, struggling with her life to get them off me.

I simply move a little to the left, and that sends her flying down to the floor. It's silent in the room, Naomi and I staring at each other with blank expressions. Not even five seconds later, we burst into laughter. She gets up with my cover in her hands, while I try not to waste the coffee. I haven't even drank any yet.

Naomi plops my cover back onto my bed before moving around to pick up the stray boxes on my side.

"You don't have to do that," I tell her.

I reluctantly move from my bed, and set my coffee down on my desk. It's pretty empty despite the items I stacked on it. Naomi folds down another empty box, and places it in a corner before turning to me.

"I want to. Anything for my roomie, right?"

"Right," I smile brightly at her, a little bit more ready to get our day started. "What's first on the list?"

"Showers," she says, grimacing at the feel of her black hair.

I nod in silent agreement, catching a peek of myself in the mirror that Naomi hung up. My personal bird's nest, or rather my hair, is exactly as I thought. It looks dead, and weirdly unhealthy, when I know that's not the case. I grimace at my dried face, my hands subconsciously trying to rub some color back into it.

Naomi moves towards her closet as I sip the simmered down coffee. The taste and warmth of it sends a soft chill through my body, while equally soothing my dry mouth. I take a few more gulps before heading to my own closet—Naomi informing me that she's taking up the shower first. I appreciate the small gesture. Allen would simply run past me, into the bathroom, and lock the door. My complaints were always useless.