“Just one more note,” he muttered, eyes back on the screen, fingers flying across the page. He told himself he’d finish quickly, jot down his last few ideas, then he’d be out the door. She would understand, right? This was important. He had to get this strategy right.

But as the minutes ticked by, the fatigue that had been building up in his body finally caught up to him. His eyes grew heavy, his mind foggy with exhaustion. He blinked, trying to shake it off, but the pull of sleep was too strong. His head lolled forward, and before he knew it, he was slumped over his desk, arms draped across his notes, breathing softly as he slipped into an unplanned nap.

His heart sank again when he saw the time. He’d fallen asleep. His girlfriend was probably already waiting—or worse, she had given up on him completely. He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, standing up and stretching, wincing at the ache in his muscles from having slept in such an awkward position. He glanced at his phone—no missed calls, but a couple of unread messages. He didn’t need to read them to know she was pissed.

"Great," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Just great." All that time spent on volleyball and now he’d have to face the fallout of having stood her up. Typical.