Dead Sprint

Renee briefly considered homicide before realizing that she had less than 3 minutes for a 5-minute trek to her next class. She was 2 minutes into a dead sprint across campus before noticing that she’d left her bag back in the lecture hall.

Damn the panic attacks, this called for a full-blown tantrum. What to do? Go forward and have to pay for another vial (a brand new refill)? Or go back and be late for Finance, again.

Three seconds before her carotid was scheduled to burst, Renee felt something pressing at her left hand. She whirled to find Cute Latin Boy grinning, holding out her bag.

“Yours right?â€?
“Yes! Oh, thank you!â€?
“You’re gonna be late for Finance… again.â€?

Renee turned and sprinted the rest of the way, relieved that for once, something had gone right. She almost stuck out her tongue at Dried Up (Spinster) Finance professor before plopping down at the back of class.

Dried Up Finance Spinster was 17 minutes, 11 seconds into her lecture before Renee checked for the vial to find that it was gone.

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