The Next Day.
I step into the classroom, stretching my arms over my head as I let out a long yawn. The crisp scent of freshly wiped desks lingers in the air, mixing with the faint traces of chalk dust and the perfume of passing students. Sunlight streams through the tall windows, casting golden streaks over the rows of desks, making the polished surfaces gleam. The chatter of my classmates hums in the background—some already engaged in animated conversations, others still groggy and hunched over their desks.
Dragging my feet toward my seat, I drop into the chair with a dull thud and let out a quiet sigh. My head feels like it's stuffed with cotton, my thoughts sluggish and unfocused. Last night, I fell into the endless pit of watching random videos, and now I can't even remember what I wasted my time on. Something about cooking? Maybe basketball highlights? Or was it that deep-dive video on ancient architecture? Whatever it was, I regret everything now.