ABSOLUTE ZERO DEGREES IN MAUNA LOA

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trigger warning besties: r@p3 and non-consensual actions of sex

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THE SWEET STINGING TASTE OF METAL on Leroi's tongue does well in relieving him from the reverie these questions put him in. Hickeys from his premolars now bedeck his fountain pen and he curses himself for disfiguring it out of a very bad habit.

"Okay Leroi," he calls out to himself, sitting up and staring into question twenty-five, "a positive enthalpy, positive entropy and negative free energy count fates a chemical reaction to?"

Leroi is wiggling his legs, the desk makes a low noise upon the motion. He has removed his pen now and can't help but chew out his lower lip. Come on, come on. His jaw clenches and unclenches, driving his whimpering brain into work overload.

Maybe it's just in his head but Leroi can smell something roasting. The smell of brain roast. Same old same old.

High spontaneity, Leroi resigns into the script.

This is torture, for him, and from the looks of the majority in the class, it's only him. If not for the yesterday's YouTube study, this test contents will more or less look like he never stepped into a chemistry class this year. Still, he's managed to struggle through the first twenty with -- the scriptures on his laps --; fair ease.

No, he can't afford to keep flunking quizzes like this or graduation will have to be bribed out by money and into his hands.

Leroi notwithstanding frees a sigh and plunks on his desk. "I give up."

He rolls his head towards Maurice who is just right beside him, a pencil sticking between his ear and stygian waves which are stuffed in a wooly beanie. Humorless, aqua irises ravage the test paper and Leroi falls into a stupor from merely watching the orbs dance.

Then they stop. And land on Leroi. His heart seizes.

"High spontaneity."

A smile materializes on Leroi's face out of will. Maurice reciprocates this action with just as much intensity that Leroi goes momentarily dizzy.

The hellborn test that wasn't so hellborn at the end of the line retires with Leroi filling the blanks with pitch perfect answers all thanks to Maurice, and Leroi stalking the boy to the parking lot.

"Stop following me."

"Stop following me," Leroi repeats in a funny falsetto while throwing his hands in the air.

Maurice just rolls his eyes and begins to unbuckle his bicycle. The walking piggy bank staring holes in his back washes him in a suffocating lather of insecurity, when his fingers brush against the paint chips on the steer, that he's one of the only people who still uses a -- furiously beatup bike -- in senior year.

"Okay what do you want?"

"Okay what do you want?" Leroi covers a giggling grin with the basketball in hand.

Maurice shakes his head and sets in an akimbo. "Dumb jocks."

"Dumb jocks."

"Guy is this really necessary?"

"Guy is this really necessary?"

Maurice dips his hand into his pocket, a horny vein popping out of his forehead.

"Stop it."

"Stop--"

In a flash, the blue-eyed boy is holding a switchblade against Leroi's Adam's apple. Leroi freezes momentarily at the sexy proxy and the twitching of the Maurice's left eye. It's not too hard to say he's getting turned on. Damn, Maurice is so tall and his breath on his face so minty.

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