It's eleven thirty, and the sun is shining brightly. Which is unfortunate, for poor Gem's head. So much for the hangover cure in her spellbook. All that did was make her really, really, sleepy. Which wouldn't do at all. So she's in the blissfully air conditioned student center, buying coffee.

Today's Gem is a harsh contrast from every other day's Gem. She's usually very put-together, and organized. Today she's wearing slouchy jeans and a hoodie (hood down), and all her papers and stuff are crammed into her bulging messenger bag. She's not feeling very fond of snakes today. Or ladders. Or Jack Daniels.

Art History is the devil.

Why had he believed their Drinking Captain when he'd said it was a good idea to go out? It's never a good idea to go out drinking after a game. Even though it is. It's what they do. It's part of the Ultimate Frisbee League experience. Drinking happens.

But Art History is the devil. Looking at slides at 8:30 in the morning in a dark room with a droning voice is absolute hell. Honestly, to some people it wouldn't be, but Coal hates falling asleep in class and he actually wants to learn. Forcing his eyes to remain open and taking coherent notes was murder.

Things have to change before French II where he actually has to think.

Coffee.

Espresso.

Double shot, please, to the boy with baggy eyes and a five o'clock shadow.

Gem is directly behind him in the line, and she rubs her head. Too much effort to decide what to get. She orders the same as Coal, thank you. He looks just as hungover as her. Luckily, she doesn't have another class for an hour. Thank gods and small puppies.

Coal and Gem are standing next to each other, waiting for the barista to finish up their orders. Gem doesn't notice him, and doesn't want to notice anyone she knows in this state.

Even standing is ridiculously hard. He wants to go back to bed. Just crawl up and shut out all the light. He's got another hour till his two-hour long class. Maybe a nap would be better but, shit, he's already bought the coffee.

He's zoning out, and maybe the barista called his drink. He rubs his eyes, what was that again?

Gem heard her drink, even though it's actually Coal's. She slumps over to the counter to fetch the drink. She is not relinquishing this coffee. Ever.

He finally snaps back to reality. Someone took his drink. He won't ask the girl, though, he doesn't believe in accusing girls you aren't familiar with.

"Excuse me," he says, nice enough, to the barista, "I think someone else got my drink?"

Coal glances at the girl, finally recognizing her, and wonders if it might be retribution for the other day.

It isn't, in fact, retribution. But don't try to take the coffee from her. Then there would be vengeance.

The barista explains to him that yes, someone took his drink. But don't worry, it was just a mistake. They ordered the same thing, you see?

It isn't something he'd say in a different mood, "You guys should really pay better attention, you know? Or put the person's name on their cup, at least."

They're sorry, sir.

"Yeah..thanks," he turns away, slightly sullen. Tired, really. And, you know, hung over. He knows he should be drinking water. Keving texted him this morning to remind but, you know, coffee tastes better, too.

"Hey, Gem," he's near enough not to make too much effort.

Gem's sullenly devouring her coffee draped over a sofa in the corner when Coal calls to her. She raises her head in silent acknowledgment. 'Sorry for stealing your coffee,' or 'hey, how're you doing?' isn't going to happen today.

Honestly, Coal's going to find a couch somewhere upstairs to crash on for an hour. The coffee can wait till after his nap.

He waves, and keeps walking.