Ragged

Over the following week, the days began to blend into one another. Always the same rhythm, always the same players.

Every morning, up early to be dressed and primped—though there'd been no consequences to my choice to wear my hair down, so I'd told Abigail that I insisted on having it loose every day from now on.

When we were pretty, we'd have breakfast, with or without David. Then there was always a meeting for tutoring, or a gathering for being tested in some way, followed by lunch, usually without David.

There was almost always a gathering or meeting in the afternoon as well. Then dinner—the one time of day I could almost always expect to see him, though we rarely got to speak.