The past week had been hell.
The exams were back-to-back, and Frida barely had five seconds to breathe. Her body was sore, and she hadn't slept in days.
Frida was sure she looked as awful as she felt. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten a proper meal, unless a bag of Cheetos and leftover pizza counted.
Her bag was stuffed with energy drinks and instant coffee packets, her lifelines for survival through the relentless exam week.
She hadn't been online in days. Social media and the outside world were a blur; her focus was entirely on her exams.
Laz hadn't crossed her path either, but that wasn't surprising. He was probably buried in his own textbooks, just like her.
That was just how they'd always been.
Frida and Laz used to compete endlessly as kids, constantly trying to outdo each other in class.
