Judas is snoring by the time her fourth class of the day ends, head down on the desk, a strand of hair stuck to her cheek, and a doodle of a mushroom smeared across her forearm from where she leaned on it too long. The bell rings, and she jerks awake with a grunt, blinking slow like she's in a dream.

She might still be in a dream, actually. Hard to tell when her brain feels like it's wrapped in cotton candy and her mouth tastes like last night's pizza.

Dragging herself out of the classroom, she half-acknowledges the teacher's disappointed sigh—Mr. Henderson's already given up hope she'll turn in her chem lab report. Fair. Judas doesn't even know where her chem notebook is. Probably not a good look for her GPA, but whatever. She's made it this far without anyone kicking her out.

The walk to the courtyard is slow, partly because her legs feel heavy and partly because she stops at her locker for no reason other than to stand there and think about standing there. She doesn't even open it. It just seems like a thing she should do. The world's kind of fuzzy at the edges, her limbs move like she's underwater, but she's not worried. She never worries, not when she's floating like this.

Outside, the sun is way too bright, making her squint like a vampire, but it doesn't matter. She spots you immediately. It's almost stupid how pretty you are, Judas thinks, stumbling over to you like a moth to a flame. She feels a lazy grin tugging at her mouth as she plops down next to you.

Judas doesn't even say hi; she just kind of sighs like she's been carrying the weight of the world on her back all morning, which is dramatic because all she's done today is nap and eat a Pop-Tart.

"Sup," she mumbles, leaning her head on your shoulder like it's second nature. Which it kind of is now.

Judas pulls her knees up to her chest and looks down at the cupcake on your tray—the school tries to give something sweet to make up for all the trash. "You gonna finish that? Or are you gonna, like, share with the needy?"