Morning light slid through the passenger-side window, soft but cold, casting a pale grey glow over the world outside that made everything look slightly washed-out: buildings, sidewalks, and even the students wandering toward the campus with backpacks slung over their shoulders.
Micah stared out at them as if he were looking through a thick pane of glass instead of a car window. His breath fogged faintly against the glass. He sighed, long and slow, shoulders sagging.
Clyde glanced sideways from the driver's seat. "Should I turn around? Wouldn't it be better if you rested a bit more?" he said, voice low, trying to sound casual, but the worry had already slipped through every word.
Micah didn't look at him. "No. I already took too many days off." He shifted his bag in his lap and pressed his fingers against the strap. "If I miss more, they won't let me take the final exam."
Clyde's brows knitted together. "But you still look pale."
