Heh heh. Poor dude. Poor creepy dude.
Frost was firmly dug in at her table in the school café. It was midterms and anxiety was running high, while sanity was at a shocking new low. She was sure that the hours of sleep every student in the café had gotten over the past week, if added up, would probably be less than forty-eight total. Most of her peers had headphones jammed in their ears like her, and bleary desperation in their eyes. There were more cups of coffee in the room than people and if a conversation dared go louder than a murmur the culprits were shamed into silence with bloodshot glares.
As it was, Frost had one more paper to turn in and she was slogging through her final round of edits when it happened. She didn’t know where the guy came from, but he was suddenly standing across the table from her, his stunned-looking brown…
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Mind In The Buff 