The Language Of Love
Damon groaned turning to the other side of his bed as the sunlight filtering through the widow roused him from sleep. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to go back to sleep, but the deed had been done. Damon couldn't sleep again.
With no other choice left, he sat up at once, groaning with the effort. It took a few minutes for the blurriness to clear from his eyes and when it did, one thing came to mind.
School.
Damon groaned out once again, burying his face into the pillow. He hated school, why bother to go through the remaining school year when he was a smartass. But then, he had promised Carlos that they would graduate together - if he lived till then.