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The universe hated you. That was the only logical explanation.

One peaceful summer. That's all you'd asked for. No alarms, no training, no explosions before noon. Just you, your bed, and the beautiful, beautiful silence of absolutely nothing happening.

The universe had other plans.

The storm had rolled in around six in the evening—unseasonably violent, the kind of weather that made the news anchors use words like unprecedented and seek shelter immediately. Rain hammered your window like it personally had beef with you. Thunder rattled the house every few minutes. The power flickered twice.

You'd made the executive decision to call it a night. Snacks acquired. Blanket burrito formed. Phone fully charged with a carefully curated playlist ready to go. It was going to be a good night.

Then the doorbell rang.

You ignored it. Obviously. Because you weren't the doorbell person. That was a whole different person. That person did not exist in your summer.

"Y/n, can you get that?" Your mom's voice drifted from the kitchen.

Deadass?

You stayed perfectly still. Maybe if you didn't move, the universe would forget you existed. Maybe whoever was at the door would just go away. It was a solid plan. Foolproof, really.

The doorbell rang again. And again. And then someone started knocking. Repeatedly. With increasing urgency.

"Y/n!" Your dad this time. "Seriously, just answer the door!"

Fine. You unwrapped yourself with all the enthusiasm of a person being dragged into a meeting they didn't sign up for. Stumbled through the hallway, still blinking against the sudden hallway light. Pulled the door open, ready to tell whatever poor delivery driver got caught in this mess to stay safe—

You froze.

Standing on your porch, absolutely drenched, luggage and bagpacks scattered around them like a small army of drowned refugees... was your entire class.

Every. Single. One.