*Ember*
My alarm goes off, and I lift my hand to turn it off like I’ve done a thousand times before, not remembering that my face looks like a meatloaf, and my insides have been rung through a juicer. I groan and try again, but before I can reach it, Kyan is standing next to my bed. He turns it off and squats down so he can see me. “I don’t think you can go to drill today, Emory.”
“I have to,” I tell him.”I can’t be absent.” I’m trying to sit up, but my torso is not cooperating, and my arms are jelly.
“I’ll tell them you’re sick.”
Shaking my head, I use every bit of energy I can muster and push up. “Nope. Can’t do that. If I’m sick, they’ll make me go to the infirmary.”
“So go to the f*****g infirmary,” he insists, not budging to get out of my way.
Rather than swing my legs out where
