It was a breezy college morning, the kind where the air still felt a little sleepy and the sidewalks were filled with students dragging backpacks and yawns. Jake had just finished his early class and was already waiting by the café courtyard bench, hood up, headphones around his neck. His girlfriend, Hannah Lowery, showed up a few minutes later—messy bun, oversized hoodie, and leggings, looking like she hadn’t even fully woken up yet.

“You look like you haven’t slept since 2003,” Jake joked, standing up to kiss her on the forehead.

Hannah smirked, rubbing her eyes. “It’s called being a full-time student and a dancer. My calves are on fire and my brain is dead.”

They walked into their favorite little campus café—half coffee shop, half quiet study haven—and stood in line, side by side, fingers laced. Jake ordered his go-to iced coffee with extra caramel drizzle, while Hannah got her usual sweet iced tea, “with just enough lemon to pretend it’s healthy,” she said.

When they sat at the corner window booth, Hannah sipped her tea, eyes barely open. “This is my lifeline today.”

Jake laughed, stretching his legs under the table to bump hers. “So what’s the plan today? You running off to rehearsal again?”

She nodded slowly. “Yeah, got a run-through at 3. But for now…” She slid her drink over dramatically. “We do this. Chill. Pretend we don’t have twenty assignments due.”

Jake raised his coffee in a toast. “To pretending.”

“To surviving,” Hannah added with a smile.