The rest of the week passed like most others—classes, lunch, Celestia dragging me into whatever chaos she felt like stirring that day. Nothing out of place, nothing I couldn't handle (probably). Avery didn't try any stunt either, probably because her ego had been bruised enough already. By the time Saturday rolled around, it was almost expected.
Celestia was here. Again.
Four weekends in a row now, not even counting the three straight weeks of semester break when she practically moved in. At this point, it would've felt abnormal if she didn't show up with an overnight bag trotting in like she owned the place.
Not that I minded.
Saturday mornings weren't supposed to be this loud.
I groaned into the pillow, eyes half-glued shut, when the buzzing on my nightstand refused to stop. Whoever it was, they had zero respect for sleep.
Next to me, Celestia shifted under the blanket. She cracked one eye open, squinting at me like I'd personally invented the noise.
