Tariq’s alarm blared, ripping him out of his sleep.

  I’m late! he thought, jolting upright as the sound continued screaming in his ear. His eyes darted around the room in a half-panicked haze.

  Groaning, he pinched the bridge of his nose and reached for his nightstand, grabbing his phone and pressing his finger against the center of the screen to snooze it.

  The sound didn’t stop.

  “What the hell…” he muttered, tapping the screen twice more before finally lifting it to his face in frustration.

  5:35.

  He sighed, his gaze drifting lower until Zora’s face filled the screen. Her dark curls framed a face fit for magazine covers, her light brown skin glowing in the photo. She was smiling wide, eyes scrunched in that way she always did — a look that, right now, only irritated him.

  Declining the call, Tariq set his phone back down and rolled over in bed. He could deal with her when his actual alarm went off at 7:00.

  A few precious moments of silence passed. He felt himself slipping back toward sleep—

  BRRRRRRRR.

  “Ugh…” he groaned. “Just one time, can she fucking be normal… just once.”

  He reached for his phone again, squinting as he swiped and brought it to his ear.

  “Hello…” he mumbled.

  “Good morning, Tariq!” Zora’s voice blasted through the speaker.

  He flinched and sighed. Something about her voice was off this morning — almost like he could hear two of her.

  This was Zora: annoyingly attractive early bird, relentless dreamer, and — much to his dismay — the biggest extrovert he’d ever met.

  “Zora,” he complained, “it’s five in the morning. Classes don’t start until nine.”

  “And?” she huffed. “You can never get up too early, Tariq… speaking of—”

  A sharp tap echoed from his window.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  His second-story window.

  Tariq shot upright again, staring into the darkness outside.

  “Oooooohhhh, it’s a ghooossttt,” Zora teased. “Open the window, please, I’m cold.”

  Jaw clenched, Tariq dragged himself out of bed and opened the window. Zora hopped inside from the tree branch that always — somehow — lined up perfectly with his room.

  “Whew, took me ages to get here today,” she said cheerfully from behind him.

  “Zora… it’s too early for this,” Tariq muttered, turning around.

  It was too dark to see her properly — only her silhouette. Glancing down at himself, he realized he was wearing nothing but underwear.

  “Yeah, yeah, it’s too early,” she mocked. “It’s really just too dark in here…”

  His eyes widened as her phone screen lit up.

  “No, stop!” Tariq hissed — too late.

  Her flashlight flooded the room, illuminating both of them.

  “Oh…” she murmured.

  He glared at her. Even without seeing her face, he knew she was grinning ear to ear.

  “Enough,” he muttered, exhausted. “I’m going back to sleep until my alarm goes off.”

  He walked past her and flopped back onto the bed. “Dad’s probably awake. Go bother him.”

  Letting his arm drop to his side, he closed his eyes.

  Ah… darkness. Glorious darkness.

  Then the bed shifted.

  Ugh...

  He turned his face into the pillow, already knowing what was coming.

  “It’s Professor Dave, and today I want to tell you how to make a black hole—” a man’s voice blared at full volume.

  “Zora…” Tariq groaned.

  “Nope,” she said cheerfully. “We’re both working on our master’s degrees. We study when we can.”

  Grinding his teeth, Tariq lifted his head and slammed it back into the pillow.

  This had been his life for the past twenty years. Frustrating. Exhausting. Constant.

  And somehow, he could never say no to her.

  “…Fine,” he mumbled, sitting up beside her.

  “That’s better,” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder.

  Sighing, Tariq staggered into the bathroom, flicking on the light and swaying slightly as he tried to wake himself up.

  “How many classes today?” Zora asked from the other room.

  “Three,” he called back, leaning against the white counter and staring at himself in the mirror.

  Tariq stood at 6’2”, his skin a shade darker than Zora’s. Years of sports and working out had left him solidly built, his hair always clean cut with a nice fade. He rubbed the back of his neck and grabbed his toothbrush.

  “Three? What the hell, Tariq! I’m taking four!” Zora pouted. “This is not what we agreed on!”

  She pushed the door open just as he started brushing his teeth, hands planted firmly on her hips.

  Today she wore gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt — a far cry from her usual colorful outfits. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, curls threatening to escape at any second.

  Her big brown eyes locked onto him.

  “We’re trying to finish as fast as possible, and here you are taking fewer classes!” She jabbed a finger into his chest.

  Tariq shrugged.

  “Whah yuh expeht?” he said through toothpaste foam. “Genehruh relativity ish hard.”

  Zora rolled her eyes. “Relativistic astrophysics is hard. Yours is just—” she paused, then smiled. “Okay, fine. It’s hard too.”

  Tariq waved her off.

  “Yuh wanna pick ou muh clothes?” he asked.

  Her eyes lit up instantly. Tariq watched as she immediately spun around without another word and darted back into his room, heading straight for his closet.

  Tariq tolled his eyes Always the same no matter what happens... he thought to himself as he turned his attention back to the mirror.