I look up from my coffee and look at the time. It was 9:15 and my first class started at 9:30. The barista couldn't stop staring at my wacky purple eyes, and managed to pour coffee down her arm. Oh well. It's rude to stare. I pulled a lock of stray dark brown hair behind my ear, and felt a hot pain where my coffee had spilt on my shirt. God!

I rushed out of the shop and brave the cold to rush across to my dorm room, which happened to be conveniently right across the road. One of the reasons I chose that dorm was because of the coffee shop. And now I was cursing the heavens for my addiction for coffee.

I closed the door and pulled on my favourite purple shirt. I looked in the mirror to make sure I wasn't completely horrendous for my last day until my week off. I was going to spend some time with my family. No more Uni exams, tests, or work. In my reflection, my brown hair and pale skin would have made me look washed out of it wasn't for my eyes. They were the only distinguishable feature that I had. They were bright purple with a black ring around the iris, and everyone says they look different, but I have always thought they look kinda pretty. I look at my shirt. It was a plain long sleeved shirt that was perfect for London weather (rain). My light denim skinny jeans were ripped and probably not so good for London weather (rain). Something caught my eye in the reflection and I turned around to see what it was. On the wall there was a clock that read 9:28.

I should go, said the rational part of my brain. The other not so rational part won out and I vaulted over the couch and ran out the door to my class. Not on my last day! My proffessor Mrs Smith will remember this and give me the evil eye all next term. I remembered a girl who actually dropped out and moved to France because she couldnt stand the rejection. And I don't want to be in a mood for tonight's party.

I rush into the class and sit at the back of the class, like I always do. I open my book and only then realise that the clock on the wall read 9:25. Why me? I'm always the one, THAT one, who has the faulty clock and turns up either really early or late. I just had gotten a book out and started reading when a familiar voice yelled my name across the room.

"Amara! Hey!" I would know that voice anywhere. "Hey Jade." I said, gesturing for her to sit down. Jade sat down, and I took in her dark olive shin and dark brown hair, which was pulled back in a high ponytail. She was wearing a dark blue tank with a black hoodie and her denim shorts were a faded black, with black Nike shoes to finish the look.

"Jade, have you actually been doing exercise?" I asked.

"What? No! Who told you that? I think it's just important to show a little skin in the winter for the guys, you know? They don't get enough because everyone's all rugged up."

I chuckled, "Science with Jade, everybody."

She punched me, "so anyway, what's up?"
I was tempted to reply with a smart a** answer, but I held back.

"Not much. But I swear your going to catch a cold wearing that." She laughs.

"Naws, somebody worried about my wellbeing? Or just jealous they dont got this booty?" We both laugh.