Breep…breep…breep….breep…
Zoe cracked one eye to glare at her alarm clock. Six in the morning. What self-respecting god fearing human being woke up at six in the morning. Sam poked his head into her room, note the lack of door, and knocked on her wall.
"Rise and shine," he said.
She glared, "Just because you wake up at ungodly hours doesn't mean the rest of us have to. My first class isn't until ten."
Sam shrugged, "All the more time for you to get your work done. You have an essay due on Friday, you know."
"Fuck college," she muttered, rolling over.
Zoe trudged down stairs after twenty minutes, her hair more or less tame.
"I had a weird dream last night," she said.
Sam frowned, "Yeah?"
"I dreamed that I was with this guy in a trenchcoat," she said, cutting a hole in the middle of her pancakes and filled it with syrup, "Said he was an angel or something."
Sam considered it, "I dreamt that I saved a reaper from demons."
"Weird," she agreed, and took a bite of pancake, "Anyways, drive me to Starbucks?"
…
Sam worked at Sandover, which was a big time old company, as tech support. Zoe went to community college where she spent most of her day wondering how long until she could get out.
"The usual?" the barista asked.
"You know me," Zoe said, "Can't keep me away from Frappuccinos."
The barista was one of her Shakespearean classmates from class. Zoe often spent a lot of her time in the coffee shop until class. Since Jose, the barista, got off at around nine, he drove them to campus. Monday mornings were always slow, and the manager didn't mind Jose taking a break.
"Have you started your paper yet?" he asked.
Zoe groaned, "Why does everyone think I won't finish the essay by Friday?"
"Because you have the worst case of procrastination I've ever seen," Jose said.
"Fuck you," she said, taking a sip of her frappucino.
"Language."
"I will say what I fucking please," she said.
…
Sam picked her up around noon for lunch at Biggerson's. Since Jose didn't have any other class on Monday except for Spanish, he joined them.
"So my brother," Jose continued, "Shows up at the dick's house, with his friends mind you, push the guy aside, and take the coach's stuff. Army Sarge," he shook his head, "Army sarge just stood there, glaring at the poor man."
"Poor guy," Zoe said, "He must have been terrified."
"Guy deserved it," Jose said, "Should've given the coach her stuff when they broke up."
"Well I have to get back to work," Sam said checking the time, "Nice to see you again Jose."
Jose shook Sam's hand, "No problem, Mr. Wesson. See you around, Zee."
Jose went his own way, and Sam dropped Zoe off at their apartment before returning to work.
….
Sam found Zoe absently sketching on her notebook, laptop open to a word document.
"Heya," she said flashing a peace sign, "How was work?"
"My boss," he said,
"Do I kill him?" she asked.
Sam frowned, "What? No! No. He just looks really familiar. Almost like I've met him before."
Zoe frowned, "Like Déjà vu?"
"Sort of," Sam said.