"Sterling, you have library duty in ten."

I looked up from my notebook, blinking away the fictional world I'd been building. Margaret sat on her bunk across from me, knitting a scarf.

"Already?" I glanced at the clock on the wall. "I swear I just sat down."

"You've been writing for three hours. Time flies when you're murdering fictional people."

"I'm not murdering anyone in this scene. It's a love confession."

"Sure it is." She winked. "That's what they all say."

I laughed, closing my ...