The Freshman at the door

The sun hung low in the sky, casting soft rays across the sprawling university campus.

It was supposed to be the golden hour—warm, calming, full of the promise of rest—but for Lucas, Liam, and Graham, it only deepened the frustration that had been simmering inside them since the exam hall doors shut.

Their shoes hit the pavement with tired weight, the three of them walking in silence for a stretch before Liam finally let out a groan that echoed into the air like a frustrated war cry.

“That was the worst exam I’ve ever sat for,” he muttered, kicking a loose stone across the sidewalk. “I think I wrote my name and spent the rest of the time trying to remember how to spell ‘mitochondria.’ I swear I wrote it like five different ways.”

Lucas smirked, but it faded quickly. His tall frame slumped with the exhaustion that came not just from a sleepless night, but from a string of nights.

“You’re not the only one,” Graham said, shaking his head. His dark curls were wild with sweat, sticking to