I love fall. The crisp air, the warm colors, the soft crunch of leaves underfoot. But fall also means school season, which, if I’m honest, I’m not the biggest fan of. Still, going to school has its perks—mainly my friends and, most importantly, my girlfriend. She’s the complete opposite of me when it comes to school. Where I’d rather wing it, she thrives on schedules and planning. Every morning, she insists we meet an hour before school starts to “plan our day.” It’s her thing, and I don’t complain too much because spending time with her makes it worth it.

Most mornings, we hang out in the library, but on rare occasions, like today, we go to the coffee shop. It’s one of those crisp mornings when the leaves outside swirl with every breeze, their colors vibrant against the dull gray of the sidewalk. I should probably be more excited about this—it’s cozy, intimate, her favorite place—but I have a pounding headache, and honestly, I’m not feeling it.

I drag myself to the table where she’s already set up with her notebook, pen in hand, her brow furrowed in concentration. She’s explaining her plan for the day, her voice soft yet animated, but I’m barely processing the words. My head sinks onto the table as I listen, letting her voice wash over me.

I love her dedication, really. Watching her map out her day with precision is sweet, and I adore how she tells me all about it later, even the smallest details. But right now, all I can think about is how badly I need caffeine.

“I need a coffee,” I blurt out, not even realizing I’d interrupted her until the words are out. Damn it.