Before I could even stand still, my bus arrived. I sat in my seat, the third on the right. The engines started, and after a right turn, they stopped. Nancy, my best friend, entered. 

She looks so sleepy, like every other day, just like a koala! Hmph, I feel a bit lazy too. Anyway, when are we going to reach the school? 

The wheels turned again, another stop, another set of people, wheels turned again, another stop, another person, wheels turned, another stop, more people, and finally, my school arrived.

I step out of my bus, and Anne passes by with her friend as I wait for Nancy and her brother to come out. When Nancy comes out, she always has her brother's bag in her hand because she's the older one. So should I have hers in mine, she's younger than me, ahah.

Nancy finally catches up to me, yawning like she hasn’t slept in years.
“Late night again?” I ask.
She shrugs, “Homework. And… scrolling.”
Classic. The security guard waves half-heartedly, probably as tired as we are. As I see a familiar teacher, I quickly start to check if my collar is buttoned.

Nancy noticed my eyes and looked in that teacher's direction.

"Hah, she really has got some issues", she said with a smirk.

I roll my eyes, "I just don't understand old-fashioned humans."

 The corridors buzz with half-awake chatter, feet dragging, someone shouting “move!” from behind.

We reach the main hall, where the crowd splits like a lazy river. Nancy heads to the stairs to her class.
“See you at break?” I ask.
“Yeah. Don’t fall asleep before then,” she says, smirking.

I head forward, clutching my bag like it’s heavier than it really is. Ground floor, first room- my class.

The bell hasn’t rung yet, but half the seats are already taken. My friends are waving from the corner. I slide into my seat, third in the row of seven, the one near the window.

The chatter fills the room like background noise, laughter, chair legs scraping, someone arguing about homework, all of it feels distant. I rest my chin on my hand and stare out the window. Outside, the trees sway gently. The sunlight slips through the glass, pale and thin, like it’s trying but not quite making it. I trace a finger over the edge of my desk — cold, smooth, real — just something to hold on to for a second.  The pale sky looks tired, too. Maybe it understands.

Nancy’s in another class, and my other friends are already gossiping about something I don’t care to hear. I nod and smile when they look my way, the usual mask. It’s not that I don’t want to talk… I just don’t have the energy to. I have always felt lazy in the morning, but nowadays I have been feeling too lazy.

The bell rings. A ripple of movement. Everyone rushes to their seats. Our class teacher walks in, greeting us with a cheeriness that feels too loud for a Wednesday morning. Sometimes, I don't just understand where he gets so much energy in the morning itself. Like one would need energy to make 43 students laugh or to make them shudder in fear. 

We all stand to greet him backand he asks us to sit.

I open my notebook, write the date in the corner, and try to look awake; if I don't look awake, he surely will point me out, will joke, and I will have to laugh so that he'll let me off the hook. I mean, he really does make us laugh, though.