If Noah Bennett hated anything more than Mondays, it was Mondays after a perfect weekend. Drudging down the halls of Brooksville High, he was a mess... backpack slung off his shoulder, curls wild from sleeping in, and a vibe that screamed I'd rather be anywhere else. The weather outside was gold and crisp, practically begging him to ditch algebra for one more hilltop sunset. But the universe had other plans: bleach-scented air, the shriek of the bell, and Ms. Callahan's classroom, a black hole where dreams went to die.
Thomas, of course, was already seated, window and posture perfect, busy taking notes like a saint. Noah dropped into the desk beside him with a grin, "Morning, sunshine."
"You're late," Thomas replied, eyes not leaving his notebook.
"The bell just rang. I'm, like, fashionably on time... barely," Noah fired back, shrugging.
Thomas finally glanced up, eyebrow climbing. "You've got syrup on your shirt."
Noah glanced down and grinned. "That's artistic expression."
Thomas looked unconvinced. "More like pancake war crime."
Before Noah could answer, Mia Parker slid into the seat behind him, cheeky grin already in place. "Isn't it my favourite disaster duo," she chirped. Mia collected gossip like Pokémon cards, eyes bright, hair wild, always a little too observant.
"Morning, Mia," Noah said, "Here to brighten my day?"
"Or witness your academic downfall." She pulled out her phone. "You know Callahan's pop quiz policy, right?"
Noah groaned. "Please, no."
She just winked. "Guess we'll find out." Thomas, unbothered, was probably already solving calculus for breakfast.
Moments later, Ms. Callahan stormed in, sensible heels and a stack of quizzes. "Pop quiz!" she announced. The room's groan could have started an earthquake.
Noah dropped his head to the desk, muttering, "I hate everything."
Thomas, cool as always: "Should've studied."
"You should've reminded me!"
"I did. Three times."
"Did you skywrite it? No? Then it doesn't count."
Thomas just deadpanned, which Noah took as a moral victory.
Thirty minutes later, Noah was sure he'd failed, and Ms. Callahan was definitely a supervillain. Thomas turned in his paper all calm and lovely, while Noah just slumped lower. "How do you exist?" Noah muttered.
"Structure and time management."
"Disgusting," Noah declared.
As the bell rang and chaos erupted, Noah lingered for Thomas. Just as he went for his backpack, his stomach gave a weird twist because across the room, Ryan Carter, a literal walking rom-com jawline, was chatting with Thomas. And Thomas was smiling. Not the big, rare one, but enough to make something inside Noah uncoil and snap. Then Ryan said something, and Thomas actually laughed.
Noah was not jealous. That would be ridiculous. Thomas wasn't his... not in that way. Or was he? Shut up brain.
Suddenly, Thomas was in front of him. "You spaced out."
Noah blinked. "Just, y'know, thinking."
Thomas didn't buy it, but shrugged. "Lunch?"
Noah followed, feeling weirdly off. In the cafeteria, chaos reigned as usual. Mia, her twin Luke, and the rest of the squad were already assembled.
"About time!" Mia snarked. "I was about to eat your fries."
"Touch them and lose your hand," Noah declared.
"Awfully protective of your potatoes," Luke teased.
"They're the love of my life. No offense, Thomas."
"None taken," Thomas replied, biting his apple.
Lunch rolled on: Mia dishing gossip, Luke tossing sarcasm, Noah stealing bites of Thomas's apple when he wasn't watching. Then Mia struck: "So, Thomas, Ryan Carter was talking to you this morning."
Noah froze. "About what?" Mia pressed, eyes hungry for drama.
"Practice schedules."
Mia raised a brow. "Just that?"
"Yes," Thomas said, flat and unfazed.
Noah leapt in. "Ryan Carter's allergic to commitment. He's dated half the cheer team."
Mia smirked. "Why so defensive, Bennett?"
"I'm not!" Noah shot back, way too quickly. Thomas gave him a look like he already knew everything, and Noah shoved another fry in his mouth, faking chill.