Micah stormed into the dorm room, his jaw tight and his footsteps loud against the floor. The door slammed shut behind him with a sharp bang that echoed down the hall. He didn't care who heard. His mood was foul, and he had no energy left to pretend otherwise.
Without even glancing around, he yanked his bag off his shoulder and threw it toward the desk. It hit the chair with a loud thud and slid to the floor. His shoes came off next, kicked carelessly in different directions. One landed near the desk, the other by the closet.
With a loud sigh, Micah dropped face-first onto his bed, arms spread out like a fallen tree. His cheek was pressed against the pillow, but he didn't relax. His shoulders were stiff, his back tense, and his fingers twitched against the sheets. The pillow muffled a long, frustrated groan.
At least the room was empty. Good.
