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... ill of his alarm. His arm shot out from under the blanket like a grumpy mole, snaking around until he found the phone. He grunted as he sat up, hair sticking up in all directions, eyes barely open. He blinked at the screen. 6:00 a.m.
Around him, the dorm was filled with the sound of complaints.
"What’s that sound?"
"Shut it down, man!"
"The sun is not even up!"
Micah rubbed his face with both hands, sighing. "Sorry, sorry," he muttered, fumbling to shut of ...
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