Hatchetfield.

Wanna Kiss?

"And, done!" Steph dramatically smacked her keyboard. "That's six pages! At this rate, I'll be done, like, before the deadline!" She beamed proudly, almost expectantly. She knew Pete always complemented her when she finished a hard assignment— or did anything, really. But she'd earned it, and he liked to see her smile.

If only he had the energy to think of something to say.

"That's great!" Pete tried to be happy for her— and he was! Steph had planned and written her whole essay in record time, and more importantly, she seemed really invested in the topic. That was a big win! It was just that they'd been here for three hours, and he hadn't eaten since lunch, and the fluorescent library lights were buzzing their way into his brain, blanking out any chance he had at thinking coherently. His mouth felt dry and powdery. His eyes ached. Man, he was not looking forward to dealing with the barista at Beanies.

Steph cocked her head, her grin slipping from her face. "Are you, like, okay? I know I've been bugging you for ideas basically the entire time—"

"No, no, it's good that you're talking!" Pete said quickly. Even the sound of his own voice seemed too loud. "You weren't bugging me. You came up with all your own ideas, I was just helping you with phrasing and stuff. Seriously, Steph, you did good."

But Steph was still frowning. She reached out and placed her hand on his forehead, and Pete couldn't help but lean in, resting the weight of his head on her palm. "Don't change the subject, Spankoffski. I know something's wrong. Just tell me what it is."

"It's nothing, really. Just low blood sugar. I'll head to Beanies after, I—"

"Well shit, why didn't you say so?" Steph's hand left his face, and Pete tried not to whine. He squeezed his eyes shut as she rustled in her bag, fighting the urge to literally cover his ears. After a few painful seconds, Steph resurfaced. "Alright, open your mouth."

Pete was too exhausted to question her. He opened his mouth, and a second later cool sweetness bloomed on his tongue. Pete closed his mouth around the unmistakable shape of a chocolate kiss, saliva welling up to melt it. He swallowed the thick, chocolatey nectar, crushed the candy with his teeth, then swallowed again. Immediately, he felt better, even if it was just the placebo effect. "You... have chocolate?"

"Yep!" Steph held up a plastic baggie of chocolate candies, rattling them around. Pete winced. "Whoops. Sorry."

"Why?" Pete asked.

"Hm?"

"Why do you have them?"

Steph cocked her head, her brow furrowing and her mouth opening a little. "...Because you get low blood sugar? Duh." She laughed like she was laughing at him, but her eyes were soft. "Seriously, next time tell me before it gets bad, okay?"

"I— I will," was all Pete could say. He didn't ask his second question, which was, "why would you get chocolates for me?" It wasn't even like she could be paying him back for helping her study. There was no showiness in the gift— hell, she'd probably forgotten she had it until Pete had mentioned his low blood sugar.

So the only explanation was that Steph actually cared about him.

Neat.

"Hey, Pete?" Steph waved her hand in his face. "You're spacing out on me."

Pete blinked, shaking his head a little. "Sorry, it just takes a second to kick in. Thank you, though."

"Aw, come on. It's just the bare minimum."

Pete raised an eyebrow. "What, does that mean I can't thank you?" He didn't tell her that even if it was, most people just wanted him to get over it, or be able to ignore it. Most people wouldn't try to help like she did.

"I mean— no, just, uh— shut up!" Steph punched him lightly on the shoulder, then hastily turned to shove her books into her backpack. "I'll see you tomorrow. Don't die, okay? I still need your help."

"I will endeavor not to." Pete called after her. He didn't try to hide his smile as he watched her leave. He wouldn't have been able to anyway. She was just so... sweet.