Page 11 of Septembers

hangout this weekend? Snacks and a b movie?

A 100000000000x yes. Sunday? Going out w matt tnight

The frosh games hunk?

Do people still say hunk?

If they know what’s good for em.

Then yes the score-ientation hunk

Omg I’m stealing that for next year

PLEASE DO

༻𓆪 𓆩༺

Friday came fast, the days in between smashing together like a sloppy sandwich with too much middle and not enough bread. Classes moved quickly, lectures were interesting but intimidating, and though most of Theo’s professors were an infectiously enthusiastic dork brigade, one had a monotone that could lull a rave to sleep.

He, Jason and Caleb had fallen into a routine where each night, they’d zone out on the couch as Jason played video games, Caleb strummed his guitar, and Theo watched, enraptured, as Caleb’s fingers flew over the strings. They rarely spoke apart from the odd story about their day, but it was nice to just exist together for a while before separating, and he found himself looking forward to it as he dodged absent-minded students in the hall on his way to his door.

Their dorm was eerily quiet. After the chaos of the first week, silence was bizarre. He went into his room, tossed his bag on the bed, and opened the window to enjoy some of the crisp autumn air before it got too cold. Half his bag was unpacked before he noticed the mug on his desk: Learning is a hoot! His first thought was his Aunt Liana, and then a barrage of questions overlapped each other. How did she know he broke it? How did she get into the dorms? Was she under the bed, hiding?

The sound of the front door opening drew him into the common area in time to catch Dae wiping sweat from his face with the bottom of his hoodie. Theo had thought only guys in movies did that, and he was alarmingly pleased to be wrong. Dae gave him a nod and moved towards his door, but Theo put the puzzle together, feeling especially dumb for not realizing right away.

“You gave me the mug.”

Dae seemed on the verge of denying it, which made Theo laugh.

“Were you getting one for yourself and thought it would be rude not to get two?”

He looked to his room, probably wishing he could teleport safely inside.

“Well, thank you,” Theo said, trying not to be too intense this time, despite the fact that Dae’s simple act of kindness had turned his insides gooey. “That was thoughtful.”

“It seemed important to you.” Dae’s words were quiet, as if Theo’s emotional attachment to a mug were a secret. His hands dug into the pockets of his giant hoodie, stretching the fabric over his shoulders again.

“Dae, can I ask you something?”

A pained wince. “My answer to that question hasn’t stopped you so far.”

“Do you own any clothes that actually fit you? This thing is enormous. You could fit both of us in there.”

He backed up, maybe scared Theo was about to try. “I was running.”

“Are you always running?” Theo crossed his arms and put on his best authoritative voice. “I demand to see your wardrobe.”

Dae’s panic-mode was dangerously cute. His hair swung over his eyes as he shook his head. “No.”

“Clothes aren’t just about aesthetics. What message are you sending with this cotton tent you’re wearing?”

“Um.” His shoulders raised a fraction. “I’m warm and comfortable?”

“I’m hiding, so don’t approach me or talk to me or look at me. I said I’d help you make friends⁠—”

“I already regret this.”

“—and that starts with how you present yourself. Let’s go.” Theo ushered him to his door, but Dae wiggled away.