The sky was overcast up above, clouds lazily blanketing the world.  It one of those perfect mornings for staying in bed and snoozing.  Unfortunately for Orphelia, snoozing was not on the agenda.  The brunette hurried down the streets, lengthening each stride of her too short legs in an attempt to travel further with each step.  She wasn’t uncouth enough to be<span style="font-style: italic">running</span>, but there was definitely more exertion than walking normally warranted.<br/><br/>Up ahead, the traffic light turned red and put a halt to Orphelia’s journey.  She waited impatiently at the crosswalk, one foot tapping a staccato against the concrete pavement.  Her free hand reached into the oversized bag she called a purse and, after a moment of rummaging, emerged triumphant with her iPhone.  A manicured nail tapped on the home key; the screen brightened into liveliness.<span style="font-family: courier;">8:26</span>the phone read accusingly, reminding her she was supposed to meet Penelope six minutes ago.  Hah, there was no way that was happening.<br/><br/>Blue eyes glanced down the street but she couldn’t spot her destination just yet.  Penelope would just have to wait a bit longer; it was the other girl’s fault for wanting to meet so early anyways!  Despite her reasoning, Orphelia powerwalked her way over the zebra crossing.  In her hand, the phone started vibrating even as Maroon 5’s<span style="font-style: italic">Maps</span>started blaring through tinny speakers.  She didn’t even bother glancing at it before she cancelled the call.  Only one person was crazy enough to call her before nine am and she was already on her way to meet that person!<br/><br/>She slid into the wooden seat opposite her friend just as the clock on her phone switched from<span style="font-family: courier;">8:34</span>to<span style="font-family: courier;">8:35</span>.  “It’s totally your fault you know,” Orphelia preempted whatever scolding Penelope was about to unleash, “Who makes a college student wake up at<span style="font-style: italic">seven</span>am?!”  Her voice was shrill with disbelief by the end of her sentence.  Some of the other patrons turned in their direction at the unexpected volume before dismissing them.  It was just two girls talking. Meanwhile, Orphelia turned to look mournfully at the café’s counter.  The delicious smell of coffee permeated the small room, as it should in a proper café, but she had a sneaking suspicion her friend wouldn’t let her slip off to join the queue.  With an aggrieved sigh, she ran a hand through her hair and looked back at her friend, settling her forearms against the glossy wooden table.<br/><br/>“So, what’s up?  Why’d we have to meet at such a godforsaken early hour?”  One finger poked idly at the white cup already present; to steal it or not to steal it, that was the question.