After midterms, days pass by uneventfully until the weather begins to ripen into the warmth of late spring. According to the laws of convective heat transfer, the rising of temperatures also gives rise to an increase in energy and movement, be it from the air particles or from summer-hungry high school students.

With each degree added to the atmospheric temperature, the animals of Noah's Arc Academy become more restless for the tantalizing land of milk and honey: summer vacation. And with such increasing expectations, it is only natural the students begin to plan out their future break amidst the grim backdrop of June finals, a shimmering green light of youthful antics to guide them through the horrible crevices of academia.

Bubbling above the dismal talk of study guides and flashcards is the refreshing chatter of beaches, planes and camping. Friends fantasize amongst themselves about where to go, whose house to sleep at, what flavors of popsicles they'll be gorging themselves on. Most of this talk is empty rambling; a coping mechanism more than anything, but for the moment, nothing could be more serious or genuine.

But there also lies a second, racier quest for summertime fun. It is a known truth of the universe that vacations are always more fun when one has a romantic partner, or at least they alway seem that way to single people. For this reason, the bachelors and bachelorettes of Noah's Arc also begin to scope out potential candidates for a summer fling. As the clock ticks on, their desperation grows, leading to a rapid decline in standards, and employment of pretty shifty methods of catching the POI's attention.

Hafsa has front row seat of the metaphorical beehive of romantic plotting, being the head cheerleader and school-wide chief gossip monger. Despite the girls no longer meeting for practice, they maintain faithful communications during whatever free moment they can spare, as is protocol of the Cheerleader Code. Under the guise of a study group meeting, the sophomores of the cheerleading club all meet at one of the study rooms in the library to chat: Hafsa, Kiki, and Mari. It only takes about fifteen minutes for the textbooks and notes to be abandoned altogether, leaving the soundproof walls of the room to be saturated with girl talk.

"I'm just saying," Mari huffs. "I refuse to spend another summer single! Either I get a male this week, or I'm joining a convent!"

The other girls giggle. "I suggest buying a rosary then because there's no way you have the guts to ask a male out!"

"It's not my fault!" Mari whines. "All the lemur bachelors just wanna hang around by themselves and get high. You know there's a millipede that they sell on the black market now that gets lemurs high? Yeah, that's all they talk about. They're all creeps."

"Ew!" Kiki grimaces.

Hafsa frowns. "Do they go to the black market? That's really dragging Noah's Arc's name through the mud."

The lemur shrugs. "Some carnies get massive ego boosts when they start high school, Think they're all grown up or whatever. It's like the first thing they do."

The three cheerleaders stew in an uncomfortable silence, only broken up by Kiki.

"Anyways," she tries to get back on subject. "Sorry about you Mari, but I've already got three dates lined up just on the first week of vacay."

Hafsa laughs incredulously. "A little eager there, aren't you?"

"What can I say?" the black cat purrs. "I'm going all in this year. Unlike stoner lemurs, male cats are man whores."

"Is that so?"

As if on cue, Mari and Kiki turn to Hafsa with expectant eyes, waiting for her input.

"What?" The serval yelps. "Don't look at me!"

"Are we really supposed to believe that Serval Hafsa, student council president and head cheerleader has no date during summer vacation?" Kiki purrs sarcastically.

"Y-you should, because I don't!"

The other two side-eye each other, clearly unconvinced.

"You don't?" Mari repeats dumbly. "You don't even when you hang around with that snack of a caracal two times a week every week? Either you're not interested in males at all, or we need to kick you out of the cheerleading club on the grounds of having no game at all."

"You don't, even when every male feline in this entire school has sent you a letter confessing their eternal and passionate love for you at least once?" Kiki chimes in.

A bead of sweat trickles down the ridge of Hafsa's nose.

"I don't."

The girls groan.

"You're impossible, Hafsa."

"What do you want from me?" The serval protests. "I'm not looking for some dumb high school relationship! I wanna commit myself to my school life, not be dragged down by some mediocre male!" She realizes her outburst might have been a bit too loud. "Besides," she adds quickly. "I have really high standards."

Mari and Kiki share another mutual glance, but know better than to keep probing her. Hafsa snatches a nearby highlighter and pretends to read a paragraph from her Animal History textbook. Males… They've given her nothing but trouble this year. She had promised herself way back in middle school to steer clear of them so the she could continue giving her all in her studies and social life.

A female actress or a singer always start off their careers full of promise and drive. But they always get caught up in some sensationalized romantic scandal, and suddenly, that's all she's known for. Not her talent, not her hard work. Just some guy. Hafsa used to read all kinds of similar stories in magazines. They sickened her to her core. If a female's career can be entirely silenced just by one relationship taking a turn for the dramatic, it was far safer and more practical to avoid the whole ordeal altogether. That's what she decided.

So whenever summer vacation rolled around and she would see couples holding hands and strolling around town, she could only turn up her nose at them. That kind of life is not for her, not while she still has ambition in her. But this year, amidst her friends all rushing to grab a partner to share the hot summer days with, she can't help but feel a twinge of sympathy.

After all, it must be nice.

Desmond rambles along the hallways of the Noah building with Brian, who he happened to stumble upon. Lately, he's been enjoying spending time with the bird, if only to detox from the ram fighting club, who, like the rest of the school, are deeply afflicted with the summer desperation of girlfriend-hunting. Brian's sunny and refreshing disposition is like an oasis in a horny, horny desert.

"Say, Desmond," Brian chirps in between sandwich bites. "Are you gonna bring your family to the barbecue?"

Desmond reads the flyer garishly displayed on a nearby bulletin board with a sullen look. Bold text splayed across the paper reads "ANNUAL 'SCHOOL'S OUT' SUMMER BARBEQUE! BRING YOUR FAMILY AND ENJOY DELICIOUS GRILLED VEGGIES!"

Desmond sighs. On the last day of the first semester, Noah's Arc celebrates by hosting a grand lunch to all the students and their parents out on the wide grassy lawn. It's a hugely popular event, though Desmond suspects that's mostly due to the students being physically and mentally not-quite-there after finals week.

"Are you?" He counters.

"Of course!" The rock dove smiles. "My siblings go crazy for the barbecue, I bring them every year! My dad and stepmom have to work, though." He nudges his friend. "So? Are you even going?"

"I am," Desmond exhales without much enthusiasm. He'd honestly thought about just skipping the whole ordeal, but his desire to spend a bit more time with the student council before summer vacation eventually won over. Well, one member in particular. "My folks are too scared to come all the way up here, but my pain in the ass brothers basically invite themselves ever since freshman year."

"That's so fun! I've been dying to meet them ever since you told me you're the youngest!"

Desmond grimaces at the thought. "It's gonna be messy."

Brian slaps the ram's back with surprising force. "Chin up, buddy! It's gonna be great! After all, it's the start of summer vacation!"

"You're really excited for vacation, huh?" Desmond winces, rubbing his back in an attempt to numb the pain. Maybe Brian should join the ram fighting club.

The pigeon pumps a fist into the air, as if striking a pose but consequently crushing his sandwich. "You bet I am! Summer is the best!"

"What are you even planning on doing?"

Brian tilts his head, trying to recall an apparently massive list of activities. "Well, I wanna take more shifts at my part-time job, and play with my siblings a bunch, and play video games, and I was thinking of getting into baking. Plus, my family always does a big trip to the beach!"

Desmond can't help but be vicariously content for him. "Sounds like you're all set."

"Aaaand," Brian cuts him off ceremoniously. "Hang out with you guys! You should totally come visit the cafe while I'm working! You can get any drink on the house (I'm paying for it)!"

"Uh, sure."

"So, what are your plans?" Brian asks while shaking ketchup off of the hand he murdered his sandwich with.

"I don't really have any," Desmond mumbles. "I get bored during vacations."

"Aw, that's so sad," The pigeon's eyes fill with genuine sympathy.

The sheep shrugs. "I'm used to it."

"Maybe you should get a girlfriend. Keep you company."

"Please," Desmond scoffs, being bombarded with memories of the rams badgering him on this very subject. 'That's ridiculous."

"Huh? Why not? Aren't you popular among sheep?"

"The issue isn't whether I could get a girlfriend," Desmond explains impatiently. "Obviously I could. Hell, they've been on my case all week. But I wouldn't be nearly as popular if I had some female clinging to me. The ewes need to have hope."

Brian squints. "You don't strike me as someone who would care about being popular with females."

"I have to care. Or else it's bye-bye vice president's seat. I won the election by a sliver as it is."

"It's not easy being a heartthrob in power, huh?"

"Tell me about it."

Desmond trudges out of the classroom, careful to shut the door silently behind him so as to not disturb the handful of students who are still taking the test. He distances himself a few feet from the area so he can loudly stretch in peace. Why is it that desks are so uncomfortable during tests? As he twists and contorts, cracking his joints like firecrackers, he contemplates on the exam he just handed to the proctor.

It was decent, I guess. He thinks, somewhat absentmindedly. A loud yawn escapes his mouth. I definitely didn't fail it, and that's all I care about. I'm sure the secretary would say something like 'members of the student council should strive not only to pass but to excel .' Tool. What's wrong with doing the bare minimum?

Tests are a miserable time, and Desmond is never one to over-prepare, but he prides himself in his competence when it comes to winging it. As it was the last test of the week, he could finally pat himself on the back for probably not failing any of his courses. Summer's already begun for him, in a way. As he readjusts his clothing, which are now even more untucked and unkempt from the impromptu yoga session. As he takes a step to leave, a hand grabs one of his upper horns, seizing him in place. A familiar, obnoxiously dulcet tone speaks up from behind.

"Got your horns."

"Let go, Hafsa."

The hand obliges, allowing the ram to turn around and greet a smug toothy grin belonging to none other than the student council president.

"If you keep sneaking up on me like that, I'm really going to start to believe you want to eat me." He sulks.

These words strike a nerve with Hafsa, still sensitive from learning about Desmond's elementary school experience. She backs up a few paces and apologizes, which proves just as surprising to the ram.

"D-don't worry about it," he consoles awkwardly. "What are you even doing around here, anyways? I saw you finish your test a while ago."

"First to turn it in, as usual, hee hee… Aren't I amazing?" She gloats. "I got out so early there was no one else around, so I just wandered around for a bit. I just ended up back here by chance."

"Oh… okay. Uh," He looks around, suddenly unable to meet her gaze. "Hey, congrats on finishing finals. It was your last test too, right?"

Hafsa smiles warmly. "Yep! And likewise! Now we're both home free!"

Before Desmond can reply, Hafsa's ears suddenly perk up, and her face loses all amusement. She quickly darts behind a set of lockers and with a panicked look, furiously beckons the sheep to do the same. He is far too confused to question it, so he reluctantly squeezes himself in the notch of a classroom door, only a few inches away from Hafsa. It's effective camouflage; anyone from either end of the hallway would be unable to see them thanks to the shield of lockers that jut out from the walls.

But what exactly are we hiding from?

A few moments later, Desmond finally picks up on the faint footsteps the serval's superior ears had detected ages ago. Some animal appears to be fidgeting around near the stairwell, grumbling to themselves before after what feels like an eternity, stomping off. The two remain motionless until Hafsa decides the coast is clear and lets out a loud and dramatic sigh of relief.

"Man," she breathes. "I was so scared he was gonna enter the hallway. He would've caught me for sure!"

"Who is 'he' precisely?" A very exasperated Desmond questions. "What was that all about?"

"Well…" Hafsa scratches her neck, embarrassed. "I ran into him while I was wandering around. He's a senior snow leopard. He's asked me out a couple of times but I always turn him down. Totally not my type. He tried again just now, and of course I turned him down again, but some males just don't know how to take no for an answer, you know?"

She sighs, now annoyed just by recounting the story. "It was just easier to ditch him than to let him down easy for the hundredth time. Maybe now he'll get a clue. Oh well, sorry for making you hide."

The rest of her words slip off her tongue when she sees Desmond's venomous glare. If looks could kill, she'd already be in her casket by now.

"Fuckin' summer vacation," he spits. "Like the heat goes straight to people's crotches. Goddamn it."

Unsure of what to do, Hafsa figures it's best to diffuse some of the tension. "H-hey, take it easy. I bet you've been swamped with love confessions nowadays too. Everyone wants summer love, you know."

"Everyone who wants to start dating just because it's summer is a goddamn idiot. Acting like it's the goddamn end times, like they'll fucking die if they spend two months single. It's a goddamn mystery."

The serval interrupts his tirade with a snort, which explodes into cackling. It snaps the ram out of his miasma.

"'It's a goddamn mystery! Fucking goddamn summer, goddamn it!'" She growls, imitating his voice (a few octaves too low) before letting out another belt of laughter, and rolling against the lockers with her arms tightly wrapped around her sides. "'Hm, I'm Desmond and I hate the summer and the youths, goddamn it! Get off my goddamn lawn!'"

Desmond turns a deep shade of red, and bites his tongue to prevent chuckling along. "It's been super frustrating, okay?! I'm sick of everyone acting like summer vacation is this magical time where everyone finds the love of their life and spend all day skipping stones and frenching into the sunset! Especially if they harass females like you about it! All those couples break up a week before the second semester starts and have the audacity to do the same shit again next year!"

Hafsa gasps in a few shortened breaths, trying to subside her laughing fit. "Even if you sound like a grumpy old man, I'm actually inclined to agree with you." She says, wiping a tear from her eye.

"Considering you just ran around school to get rid of an idiot that thinks like that, I should hope so."

"I mean, it's fine if other people want to do it, but I don't see the appeal of dating."

"Right?!" Desmond bleats. "It's pointless! Way more trouble than it's worth."

"Yeah, especially in high school," Hafsa adds. "So much drama for no reason. And when you say you're not interested in dating, suddenly you're some weirdo."

"Totally! It's absurd."

"So stupid."

They give each other a satisfied look, content they've come to an understanding. Suddenly, an interesting mental image flashes in their minds.

On a bright sunny day, a picnic blanket is spread out over a luscious patch of grass, glistening in the sunlight, its bright green only broken up by speckles of colorful wildflowers. A delicious and refreshing spread is arranged on the blanket, complete with a nearby basket that remains partially darkened by the cooling shade of a nearby tree. It's a wonderful and peaceful setting, and the food is delicious. But the most wonderful part about it is who they're sharing it with. Summer love.

Both their smiles stiffen. For a split second, they both really wanna have a date for the summer.

AN: Thanks for reading! Yay, I'm not dead. I came down with a serious case of tofu brain and forgot how to write. I'm getting better, mostly because I wanna write about summer vacation. Will I manage to do so by the time 2021 ends? Find out next time on the next episode of "The Written Word Was a Mistake"!

Also thanks very much for 60 kudos. I feel like whatever goal of popularity with this fic I have long since surpassed. Thank you for your interest and lovely comments.

Take it easy and stay safe.