MIA’S POV
My alarm went off, loud, tearing through the quiet of my room. It took me a second to remember where I was. California. My bed. My reality.
It felt like forever since I’d heard that sound.
“Ugh, what a disaster of a morning,” I groaned, my voice rough and thick with sleep.
The sunlight flooded through the window too bright. I threw an arm over my face, cursing myself for forgetting to close the curtains last night.
The universe clearly enjoyed mocking me.
After a sluggish shower, I padded across the cold floor, still half-asleep.
I stopped in front of the mirror and tied my hair into a messy bun with a flowery clip, wincing at my reflection.
“I hate Mondays,” I muttered, glaring at my own tired face. “Hate them, hate them, hate them.”
My pale pink camisole clung softl
