~Shout out to kerrbooklover for making the amazing book cover above.

My phone buzzed under my pillow after I snoozed it for the second time. Mornings were the worst. Getting out of bed was my personal mission impossible, especially if I had ballet class the day before. With aching muscles and a yawn, I managed to drag myself out of bed. Not my bed, I thought, Zane's bed. He had graciously offered me the bigger room, which he had previously occupied, when I moved into his apartment.

Outside of the room, it was quiet but the blinds were up, a sign that Zane was probably awake. The island, where Zane normally sat in the mornings reading the newspaper, was empty. I shrugged before putting my hair up in a bun and washing my hands. Hannah wouldn't be here for the next hour or so, which gave me enough time to make breakfast. Pulling out the eggs and toast, I hummed to myself, feeling myself relax at the familiarity of being in a kitchen.

On the counter, there was a notebook that had been left open, its pages filled with neat handwriting. I had seen the tiny book in Zane's hands occasionally but had no idea what he used it for. A quick glance at the book made it clear that it was Zane's schedule for the day, a to-do list of sorts. Making breakfast was at the top of the list, followed by asking wife how she slept. I snorted at that one.

It didn't surprise me one bit that Zane had a detailed to-do list for the day. His apartment was all sleek and neat, with everything kept carefully in its place. Heck. This guy had printed labels everywhere from his closet to the kitchen. Hannah laughed at the labels when she first came over but I just rolled my eyes at her.

"Hey," Zane said behind me, making me jump and take a step back from the counter. A spoon slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor. We both watched it for a second before Zane bent down to pick it up. "Sorry for scaring you."

"You scared the crap out of me," I said, holding a hand to my heart and taking the spoon from him.

"How did you sleep?" he asked. I shrugged at his question.

"Good, I guess. How about you?" Bread popped up from the toaster and we turned to look at it. Pinching the toast with my fingers I dropped it onto a clean plate, followed by a helping of steaming scrambled eggs.

"I slept okay."

Handing him the plate, I said, "now you can cross off two things from your list." He gave me a confused look and I gestured at the notebook on the counter.

"Oh," he muttered while giving me a sheepish smile. He placed the plate on the counter, pulling out the orange juice from the fridge and pouring it into two cups. "I like writing things down. It helps me think."

I grinned. "I can see that." Zane sat at the counter and opened up the newspaper, while I stood by and nibbled at my toast. We fell into our usual awkward silence, the only sound coming from Zane as he skimmed through the newspaper.

There were times that I found the silence suffocating.

Zane cleared his throat. "Do you want to sit down?" he said, glancing at the chair beside him.

"Nah, I'm good," I muttered, shoving a spoonful of eggs into my mouth. "I'm almost done eating."

He nodded and ran his fingers through his wet hair. "If you want, I can drop you off at school." Watching him for a second, I placed my hand on the counter and did a lazy tendu, an old habit of mine that I couldn't seem to break.

I shook my head, placing my plate in the sink. "Hannah is going to picking me up."

"Oh yeah. Never mind, then." After that, he ate his breakfast in silence with his eyes glued to the newspaper.

Not knowing what else I should say to Zane, I decided to take a shower and get dressed for school. Hannah and I had class at nine this morning, which was a time that we both typically avoided like the plague when selecting courses. However, the two-hour class was one that we hadn't missed all semester because the topic, gothic literature, was so damn interesting.

When I came out of the room, Zane was long gone. The only sign that he was even awake were the clean dishes he left to dry on the rack. There was a knock at the door, followed by the shrill voice of my best friend instructing me to open the door. Hannah practically tackled me to the floor once I pulled it open.

"I just saw you yesterday," I said to her with a giggle. Hannah was a short girl with a fiery personality who was studying History at Ryerson. When we started university, Hannah opted to study History while I decided to major in English.

Hannah and I met at the start of high school. Our friendship was forged over our mutual hatred over a boy we both dated, apparently, at the same time. Turned out that Max Kunning lived up to his name. 

He strung us along, like the puppets we were, winning us over with sweet words and his good looks. Once we found out about his shenanigans, we ruined him. Publicly humiliated would be a better way to put it. We simply poured a chocolate smoothie over his head in the cafeteria, though he deserved much worse.

"Just saw your man downstairs," she said, looking up at me. "He said good morning to me."

I pulled away from my friend and waved my hand at her. Groaning, I mumbled, "he's not my man, Hannah."

"He put a ring on it, girl. He is definitely your man," she sang. With a flick of her dark hair, she went into the kitchen and managed to sniff out the granola bars. The ring my best friend was referring to hung around my neck on a thin chain. I couldn't bring myself to wear it on my finger.

While she ate the bar, she pressed her forehead against the floor-to-ceiling window and then sighed. Knowing what she was going to say next, I picked up my satchel and moved towards the door. "Can we please leave now? I don't want to be late for Henle's class," I said, ignoring her comment about Zane. Hannah was convinced that Zane and I would eventually fall hopelessly in love with one another. When she found out about the marriage, she was ecstatic, while I had been nervous.

"We still have at least half an hour, Sarah. Just relax and let me enjoy the view," she grumbled. Dropping my satchel onto the couch, I went to stand beside her. We were so high up that the people below looked like ants as they scurried along.

"Yeah. You came early today." With her forehead pressed against the window, she turned her face towards me. A frown crept across her face.

"My brother and mom were at it again," she said with a shrug. Hannah lived with her mom and brother who were constantly fighting over everything from the car to the dishes. When we were younger, Hannah would come to my house when things got bad. Ever since we started university, she had been coming over less often.

"Shit, Hannah." My hand immediately went to her shoulder but she made a face at me. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head and looked out the window again. "To be honest, no." Hannah chewed her granola bar and didn't say anything for a minute. Finally, she whispered, "Damn girl. I don't know if I should feel bad for you or be jealous of you."

I snorted and turned away. "Neither. You know why I did this." I paused. "Can we please talk about something else?"

She stepped away from the window and looked up at the ceiling like she was thinking about something. "I had to tell you something."

"What did you have to tell me? Do you want some juice?" Opening the fridge, I took out the orange juice, not missing the fact that the fridge was almost empty. We would have to go grocery shopping soon. Hannah shook her head while she stroked her chin thoughtfully.

"Something important," she mumbled. "Oh yeah! You told me you were having some trouble with that bio course you were taking, right?" I nodded my head. "Apparently my boyfriend's older brother majored in biochemistry in uni."

"That's pretty cool. I didn't even know Jack had an older brother," I added before shrugging my shoulders.

"Jack said that his brother would be willing to tutor you if you want," she finished.

"That would be a good idea, actually. I tried asking a couple of kids in class but they were too busy." For the last four years, I had avoided taking any bio courses. In high school my science grades were terrible so it made sense to stick to what I was good at.

"You could always drop the course," Hannah suggested, making her way towards the door.

"I wanted to drop it. It's just that my dad used to be a bio prof and I wanted to take this course in his memory," I answered, picking up my bag and keys from the small table beside the door. Dad used to teach biology at Waterloo, which was where I wanted to teach at. "Is that weird?"

"I don't think that's weird at all. I think it's really sweet of you," she said, spinning her car keys around on her index finger.