p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Mondays were officially the worst thing ever. Jake Peralta had this groundbreaking revelation as he stumbled out of bed with his blankets wrapped around himself like a burrito, heading to the kitchen in search of coffee. Like, nothing else could compare to the special hell of waking up on a Monday at 7 am in a hungover stupor and then dragging himself to an 8 am lecture. Especially since that lecture was officially the most boring and stilted class ever, taught by the most robotic professor on campus. "Ughhhhhhhhh" Jake groaned loudly, throwing himself at the coffee machine and stabbing the buttons until it whirred to life. "I can't believe we have to deal with Professor Holt today. My head feels like it's being stabbed with tiny little knives." From the nearby couch came a vague moaning noise as Charles Boyle poked his head out of his own blanket burrito. "Please, don't talk to me about class." He sat up slowly and shuffled to the edge of the couch so he could stand up without unravelling the blankets. "Charles, did you sleep on the couch?" Jake asked, frowning at the red lines on his roommate's face where the edges of the couch pillows had dug into his skin. "Yeah dude, after you went to bed I sort of just passed out before I could move." Boyle said, grabbing a mug from the counter and sniffing it cautiously. "Hey, this isn't one of the cups Rosa barfed in, is it?" Jake took the mug and peered into it. "Nah, I think she smashed all of those." The coffee machine beeped, and he poured coffee for both of them. For a few minutes, they stood in silence, drinking their watered-down coffee in their semi-clean cups. They had run out of both coffee beans and dish soap, giving their coffee a watery flavor with an aftertaste of last night's beer. Jake gulped down the last of this pitiable excuse for caffeine and rummaged through the cupboards, coming up with several pop tarts and some ketchup. He squirted ketchup on his pop tart and shoved it in his mouth as Boyle looked on in disgust. "What? We gotta get groceries so I'm just using up what we got." Jake said, shoving the ketchup in the cabinet. "Well, we're not out of my cereal." Boyle said, pouring some of his squid-ink flavored cereal into his mug and eating it dry. "You should try some, Jake, I bet you'd love it." "No, no, no, a million times no." Jake said, rolling his eyes. "There's no way that I'm eating your weird squid cereal. That's just weird. Pop tarts with ketchup is a culinary delight!" With that, he shuffled back to his bedroom, slowly unravelling his blanket burrito as he went. Pulling on a pair of stained jeans, a rumpled black t-shirt, and a hoodie with a hole in the elbow, Jake tried to make himself somewhat presentable for an 8 am class. He crammed his computer, notebooks, and class schedule into his backpack and emerged from his bedroom to search for his shoes. Boyle was also wearing jeans, but with a button-up blue cardigan that said 'Boyle Boys' on the back. His dad had gotten them matching Boyle Boys cardigans for Christmas, and Charles was obsessed. He told anyone who would listen about the time he and his dad went fishing and they came up with the name Boyle Boys in case they ever started a boy band together. Jake usually pretended he didn't know Boyle when that subject came up. Rolling his eyes at Boyle's cardigan, Jake retrieved one shoe from under the couch and found the other by the door while Boyle put on his birkenstock sandals over his socks. Boyle loved birkenstocks, and he took every opportunity to wear them. Together they shuffled out of the door and into the dorm hallway, heading towards the agony that was a hungover 9 am class./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Amy Santiago usually loved Professor Holt's classes. She loved his graphs and organized course syllabus, the lecture slides that she printed and annotated in an organized stack to add to her binder, the Professor's gravitas in the classroom. She loved it all, and on a normal Monday morning she would be feeling happy and ready to go with her favorite pen in hand, but this morning she felt like death warmed over. Jake and Charles invited their whole friend group to a party last night, and she got home way later than she meant to. She hadn't even organized her school supplies for the next morning like she usually did! She sat in her chair close to the front of the lecture hall, and stared vacantly at Professor Holt's slides. He continued his lecture in the rumbling monotone she usually loved, but this time she had a hard time focusing on his words, and by the looks on her classmates' faces, so was everyone else. Jake sat slumped forward in his seat, leaning his chin on his hand and scribbling something on the edge of his notebook. Probably doodling, Amy thought with an internal eye roll. Charles was twirling his pen like a circus baton and chewing gum, probably his weird squid ink flavored gum. He loved squid ink. Rosa's expression was impossible to decipher behind her sunglasses, and Terry looked like he was half asleep but he was taking occasional notes in a half-hearted attempt to pay attention. The only ones who looked sort of normal that morning were Hitchcock and Scully, who sat at the back of the room with a pizza box and several pages of grease-stained notes in front of them. They were eating pizza at a rapid pace and seemed to be using the notes just as napkins. They had been in this class for five years and seemed to be no closer to earning their degree, so at this point as long as they kept showing up Professor Holt didn't seem to care about their total lack of interest. He also seemed oblivious to the mood of the rest of the class, continuing to talk about criminal law and presenting slide after slide with statistics. Normally Amy loved statistics, but today she couldn't even get excited about labelling the graphs in her notes with little colored pencils. As soon as Holt finished the last slide, she began packing her binders and notebooks into her backpack, wishing she could just go back to her dorm room for a nap. As everyone filed out of the classroom listlessly, Amy looked back at Holt sitting at his desk, and felt a pang of sadness. He seemed a bit sad, she thought, and wondered if it could be because his audience was lacking its usual enthusiasm. Well, not that many of the others were particularly enthusiastic in class, but Amy was always eager to contribute when Holt asked a question, and she regretted her lack of participation. She joined Jake and Boyle in the hallway, and threw them a glare. "Look what we've done to Professor Holt, you guys. He looks crushed, I bet he's really disappointed that we were all so hungover. I didn't even have the chance to annotate the new graphs to show him!" Jake rolled his eyes. "Oh Amy, do you think he cares? We're students, that's what we're supposed to be doing on our Sunday nights. I bet Holt had some real ragers back in the day. He's just probably stoked that we showed up." "Jake! I'm serious. If parties at your place are going to be impacting my performance in class, then my straight A streak will be in danger. That can't happen, Jake, it can't." "Okay, okay, chill." Jake said, pulling his schedule out of his back pocket and frowning at it. "You'll be fine, I'm the one who's straight up about to fail Cozner's class. Why do we have to read this lame book? I've barely started and it's such a dud. He could have picked something interesting at least!" Amy rolled her eyes. "This is how it starts, Jake! And Latin mythology is actually really interesting, I'm sure you'd love it if you at least gave it a chance!" Jake sighed, stuffing his schedule back into his pocket. "Well, I'm gonna have to find a sparknotes of it at least, or that quiz tomorrow is going to be such a flop. Can I borrow your notes, Amy?" "Oh yeah, me too?" Charles said, looking at Amy beseechingly. "I've read about half but I'm so confused, I don't understand the plot at all!" Amy sighed. "All right, fine, I'll scan my notes and email them to you guys. But next time you should just read the book! I don't know how you guys haven't failed yet. "I've got a solid C+ grade," Jake said proudly, "and as long as I keep that up we're golden." "Whatever, I'm heading to the library." Amy said. "Want to come?" "Nah, Wuntch's class isn't until 1, we've got two hours to chill. Boyle and me are going to Costco to see if we can get some of those free samples and then hit the couches for a nap." "They have a new salsa!" Boyle said excitedly. "I'm going to take notes for the blog. I bet it has an amazing mouth feel." "Also, it's food, and I'm pretty broke right now so the fridge is literally empty." Jake said, rolling his eyes at Boyle's enthusiasm. "You can't just loiter around in Costco to eat samples and sleep on their couches!" Amy said indignantly. "If you're going there you should at least buy something!" Jake shrugged. "I'm sure nobody cares. Look, if it makes you feel better, I'll buy a soda or something under three dollars from the food court." "That doesn't make me feel better, but I guess I can't stop you." Amy glared at Jake for a moment before looking back at her schedule. "Well, I'll see you guys in class later?" "You betcha." Boyle said cheerfully. He and Jake headed towards the door, and Amy walked towards the library, looking forward to some peaceful studying. A nice few hours to annotate her notes and organize her binders would make her feel better./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Amy Santiago usually loved Professor Holt's classes. She loved his graphs and organized course syllabus, the lecture slides that she printed and annotated in an organized stack to add to her binder, the Professor's gravitas in the classroom. She loved it all, and on a normal Monday morning she would be feeling happy and ready to go with her favorite pen in hand, but this morning she felt like death warmed over. Jake and Charles invited their whole friend group to a party last night, and she got home way later than she meant to. She hadn't even organized her school supplies for the next morning like she usually did! She sat in her chair close to the front of the lecture hall, and stared vacantly at Professor Holt's slides. He continued his lecture in the rumbling monotone she usually loved, but this time she had a hard time focusing on his words, and by the looks on her classmates' faces, so was everyone else. Jake sat slumped forward in his seat, leaning his chin on his hand and scribbling something on the edge of his notebook. Probably doodling, Amy thought with an internal eye roll. Charles was twirling his pen like a circus baton and chewing gum, probably his weird squid ink flavored gum. He loved squid ink. Rosa's expression was impossible to decipher behind her sunglasses, and Terry looked like he was half asleep but he was taking occasional notes in a half-hearted attempt to pay attention. The only ones who looked sort of normal that morning were Hitchcock and Scully, who sat at the back of the room with a pizza box and several pages of grease-stained notes in front of them. They were eating pizza at a rapid pace and seemed to be using the notes just as napkins. They had been in this class for five years and seemed to be no closer to earning their degree, so at this point as long as they kept showing up Professor Holt didn't seem to care about their total lack of interest. He also seemed oblivious to the mood of the rest of the class, continuing to talk about criminal law and presenting slide after slide with statistics. Normally Amy loved statistics, but today she couldn't even get excited about labelling the graphs in her notes with little colored pencils. As soon as Holt finished the last slide, she began packing her binders and notebooks into her backpack, wishing she could just go back to her dorm room for a nap. As everyone filed out of the classroom listlessly, Amy looked back at Holt sitting at his desk, and felt a pang of sadness. He seemed a bit sad, she thought, and wondered if it could be because his audience was lacking its usual enthusiasm. Well, not that many of the others were particularly enthusiastic in class, but Amy was always eager to contribute when Holt asked a question, and she regretted her lack of participation. She joined Jake and Boyle in the hallway, and threw them a glare. "Look what we've done to Professor Holt, you guys. He looks crushed, I bet he's really disappointed that we were all so hungover. I didn't even have the chance to annotate the new graphs to show him!" Jake rolled his eyes. "Oh Amy, do you think he cares? We're students, that's what we're supposed to be doing on our Sunday nights. I bet Holt had some real ragers back in the day. He's just probably stoked that we showed up." "Jake! I'm serious. If parties at your place are going to be impacting my performance in class, then my straight A streak will be in danger. That can't happen, Jake, it can't." "Okay, okay, chill." Jake said, pulling his schedule out of his back pocket and frowning at it. "You'll be fine, I'm the one who's straight up about to fail Cozner's class. Why do we have to read this lame book? I've barely started and it's such a dud. He could have picked something interesting at least!" Amy rolled her eyes. "This is how it starts, Jake! And Latin mythology is actually really interesting, I'm sure you'd love it if you at least gave it a chance!" Jake sighed, stuffing his schedule back into his pocket. "Well, I'm gonna have to find a sparknotes of it at least, or that quiz tomorrow is going to be such a flop. Can I borrow your notes, Amy?" "Oh yeah, me too?" Charles said, looking at Amy beseechingly. "I've read about half but I'm so confused, I don't understand the plot at all!" Amy sighed. "All right, fine, I'll scan my notes and email them to you guys. But next time you should just read the book! I don't know how you guys haven't failed yet. "I've got a solid C+ grade," Jake said proudly, "and as long as I keep that up we're golden." "Whatever, I'm heading to the library." Amy said. "Want to come?" "Nah, Wuntch's class isn't until 1, we've got two hours to chill. Boyle and me are going to Costco to see if we can get some of those free samples and then hit the couches for a nap." "They have a new salsa!" Boyle said excitedly. "I'm going to take notes for the blog. I bet it has an amazing mouth feel." "Also, it's food, and I'm pretty broke right now so the fridge is literally empty." Jake said, rolling his eyes at Boyle's enthusiasm. "You can't just loiter around in Costco to eat samples and sleep on their couches!" Amy said indignantly. "If you're going there you should at least buy something!" Jake shrugged. "I'm sure nobody cares. Look, if it makes you feel better, I'll buy a soda or something under three dollars from the food court." "That doesn't make me feel better, but I guess I can't stop you." Amy glared at Jake for a moment before looking back at her schedule. "Well, I'll see you guys in class later?" "You betcha." Boyle said cheerfully. He and Jake headed towards the door, and Amy walked towards the library, looking forward to some peaceful studying. A nice few hours to annotate her notes and organize her binders would make her feel better./p