Senioritis
The sun reflected sharply, blindingly off the concrete. Elyse joined the sun-glassed mob on its way to class.
She was a senior; it was two weeks until she would graduate. What the hell was she doing wasting time on class? There were jobs to be applied for, conversations to be held, wrongs to be written. Ah, well, they would just have to wait for fifty more minutes.
Off came the sunglasses, and into Campbell Hall she sauntered for her thirteenth to last day of college . . .