"What's going on with you and Professor Roja?" Drix asked, trailing behind Ozzy as they made their way to their dorm room.

Ozzy groaned and rolled his eyes, before slotting the key into the door, stepping inside, and slamming it shut behind him. He stormed over to the desk and threw himself on top, kicking some of Drix's papers onto the floor in the process.

He smirked to himself then when he heard Drix curse under his breath from the other side of the door as he rummaged around in his satchel for his keys.

Ozzy tilted his head back and shut his eyes, enjoying the small moment of peace and quiet from Drix's relentless quizzing about his and the professor's relationship that he had been subjected to since they had left the café.

Ozzy had simply laughed every question off before changing the subject, a tactic that usually worked in his favour, but it was obvious that Drix wasn't going to back down this time, and Ozzy was starting to get pissed off.

After a few moments, Drix managed to find his keys and unlock the door, before pushing it open and floating in with a scowl on his face. "Jones, the more you avoid me, the more suspicious I'll get. I'll ask you one more time, what's going on with you and the professor?"

Ozzy frowned back at him and crossed his arms over his chest. "I told ya! Nothing's goin' on with him! He's my teacher and I'm his student, that's all. It's all totally normal."

"Ozzy, there is nothing normal about you two. First you hated each other and spent every waking second trying to make each other's lives a living hell, and now all of a sudden it's like you're best friends. What's changed?"

Ozzy waved his hand in the air and leaned back against the wall, crossing his legs. "Nothing's changed. It's like I told ya last week, I've been trying to be a better student, ain't I? He's finally seen the error of his ways and realised that I'm absolutely amazing, so he likes me now. That's all."

"Liking you is one thing, but inviting you, a freshman, on the sophomore trip? It's unheard of!"

"And did it ever occur to you that I might just be that loveable?"

"Ozzy, be serious for one second. None of this makes any sense and you know it. What has happened between you two? Did you bribe him?"

"Bribe him? Hah! What would I even bribe him with? You literally said it yourself, I don't have enough money to feed myself." Ozzy narrowed his eyes and slouched against the wall. "Thanks for that, by the way."

Drix rolled his eyes. "I already apologised for that. Anyway, that's besides the point. Why did he invite you on the trip? Is this all just an elaborate prank of yours, or something?"

"What? How would this be a prank?"

"Well, just off the top of my head, you try to get on his good side so he invites you on the trip, and then you find a way to humiliate him in front of his peers and students."

Ozzy smirked at that. "That's actually not a bad idea. You'd make a pretty good prankster yourself, Dripsy, if you ever dropped that goody two-shoes act. But no, it's not a prank."

"It's blackmail, then. You found out something about him that he doesn't want anyone to know, and you're holding it over him to get him to do whatever you want."

Ozzy scrunched up his face. "Drips, what the fuck? I know I can be a bit of a dickhead sometimes, but I'm not evil."

"But then why-"

Ozzy groaned and threw his head back. "Oh c'mon, can we just drop this already? Why do you care so much, anyway? You should be happy for me!"

Drix frowned and floated over to the desk to pick up the pieces of paper that Ozzy had thrown on the floor before. "I am happy for you," he said quietly, "I just don't like how close you've gotten to the professor. It's… unsettling."

Ozzy's eyes widened then, a big grin breaking out on his face. "Ohh, and there we have it! The truth finally comes out."

Drix lifted his head and frowned as he dropped the papers on the desk. "What do you mean?"

"I know what this is really about. The reason you're being so pissy about this."

"What are you blathering about, Jones?"

"This isn't about whether I should or shouldn't be invited on that stupid trip, or whether a teacher is being a bit weird towards me. You couldn't care less about any of that." Ozzy leaned in and narrowed his eyes. "You're jealous."

"I… what?!"

"You're jealous of me. Jealous that a teacher likes me more than you."

"Ozzy, don't be ridiculous."

"For once in our lives, a teacher is giving me preferential treatment instead of you, but not only that. Oh no no no, it's much deeper than that. It's not just any old teacher, it's one of your favourite teachers, one of the people you respect above anyone else, and you can't stand the fact that he likes me more than you."

"Jones, stop that-"

"You love being the favourite, you always have. It makes you feel like you're better than me."

Drix gasped and pointed his finger in Ozzy's face. "I resent that accusation!"

"Resent it all you want, you know it's true. You've always done this, with every single teacher you've ever had. You care so much about what they think of you, doing everything possible to get their approval."

Drix scowled at him, his shoulders shaking with rage. "At least I don't treat my teachers like a substitute parent!"

Ozzy's mouth fell open at that, and he scooted across the desk to swing his legs over the edge. "Hey! I do not treat Roja like a parent!"

"Yes, you do. I've seen the way you look at him, all moon-eyed and affectionate, hanging on his every word like you used to do with your father."

Ozzy pushed on his shoulder and sat up on his knees so his face was in line with Drix's. "I do not! That's such a fucked up thing to say! And what are you even basing this on, anyway? Today is literally the only time you've seen us together!"

Drix shut his eyes and breathed in deeply, before he went to reach into his satchel. "Okay, now I wasn't going to show you this, but I think it's the only way to make you see sense," he said as he pulled out his cell phone.

Ozzy furrowed his brow and slouched back down. "What is it?"

"Something Sam sent me after we left the café just now. It's a photo of you at the tennis match." He opened the photo and looked down at it with a frown. "A photo of you and Professor Roja."

Ozzy's eyes widened, and he reached out to snatch the phone from Drix, sighing with relief as soon as he saw it was just a photo of the two of them talking, probably before the match had started. "Okay, yeah, so he came to my match. What's that got to do with anything?"

" Why was he there, though? I've never seen him attend a single college event before, let alone talk to one of the students like he is with you in this picture."

Ozzy furrowed his brow and handed the phone back to Drix. "I dunno, he must just really like tennis, I guess," he said quietly, looking down at his lap.

"But enough to miss his morning class and risk his position here at the University?"

"Risk his position?"

"Well, yeah. He skipped out on his job without any explanation, and he's already skating on thin ice as it is."

"What? I thought you said he was a great teacher, and that he'd never had any incidents against his name?"

"That's right, but he is still a virus, not to mention the leader of a controversial political movement."

"Not All Viruses."

"Mhm," Drix said with a nod. "I bet there are plenty of people on the board of directors who are just waiting for him to make the tiniest slip up, and then use it as an excuse to get rid of him. Which is why it makes no sense that he would go to your game. Did you invite him?"

Ozzy shifted in place and started scratching his arm. "No."

"Ozzy, you're a terrible liar."

Ozzy frowned and looked back up at Drix. "Am not!"

"I can immediately tell when you're lying; you always fidget and dart your eyes about in every direction. Tell me the truth. Did you invite him?"

Ozzy groaned. "Fine, I guess in some way, I may have mentioned the game to him, hoping he might come."

"Why did you feel the need to do that?"

"I dunno, I mean it wasn't like anyone else was gonna go and watch me."

Drix leaned in closer and placed a hand on Ozzy's shoulder. "See what I mean? You're treating him like he's your father. Going to sports games is what a father should do, not a teacher, but because you never had that with your real father, you've gone looking for someone to fill that role."

He lowered his voice and squeezed his shoulder. "You may think that you and Professor Roja have formed some sort of special bond, but he's your teacher, Ozzy, and that's all he'll ever be."

Ozzy frowned at that and pushed Drix's hand off him. "You shut up. You don't know the first thing about me and Roja. He's more than just a teacher, alright?"

"Ozzy, I know it may feel like that to you, but trust me, your relationship with him only extends to the edges of this campus. Sure, he may treat you better than he does the other students; maybe he cuts you some slack on your homework, or grades you more generously, but that's all it will ever be. You can't expect any more from him than that, you'll only end up getting hurt."

Ozzy clenched his teeth. "That's not true at all. You don't know what you're talkin' about."

"Ozzy, I think it would be best if you-"

"Stop tryna give me advice all the time! God, you're so annoying!"

Drix groaned and continued trying to talk. "Listen to me, I know this is all new and exciting for you, having an adult pay you some positive attention for once. I understand that, believe me I do. However, I think it would be best to try and limit contact with the professor outside of class."

"But I don't want to! He's the first person to ever see me as anything other than a total screw-up. He talks to me like I'm a person, rather than just a waste of space. He's literally the only one that seems to genuinely respect me in this fuckin' body!"

Drix blinked at him for a moment, a hurt look creeping over his face. "What about me? Don't I treat you with respect?"

Ozzy crossed his arms over his chest and looked down, mumbling, "well, you've just spent the last twenty minutes patronisin' me and talkin' to me like I'm 8 years old."

"I-I didn't mean to."

"No, I'm sure you didn't, it's like a fucking built-in habit for you at this point. All you do is talk down to me and treat me like an idiot."

Drix gasped at that. "No, I don't. How can you even say that?"

"'Cause it's the truth," Ozzy spat, before sliding off the desk and heading to the door. "I've had enough of this bullshit, I'm goin' out. Thanks for ruinin' my day."

"Ohh, stop being so dramatic."

Ozzy spun around and threw his arms in the air. "And you stop treatin' me like a little kid!"

"Well, maybe if you didn't act like such a child, people wouldn't treat you like one! Come sit down so we can talk it out like two adults."

"There ya go again, actin' all superior," Ozzy muttered. He stood up straight and closed his eyes, putting on a fake English accent as he continued. "Hello, I'm Drixanol, I'm literally perfect in every single way. Have you met my stupid idiot friend Osmosis Jones here? He has the emotional intelligence of a six year old and doesn't even know how to tie his own shoes."

"Jones, stop that."

"I'm better than everyone else, and I won't stop until everybody knows it! I'll give you useless, shitty advice even when you don't want it, and-"

"Oh, that is it!" Drix yelled, slamming his hand on the table. "I've had it! All I ever do is try to help you and you always throw it back in my face. I am so sick of you!"

Ozzy flinched at that, before glaring at Drix and pointing his finger at him. "You're sick of me? I'm sick of you! Did it ever occur to you that I don't want your help? That I don't need it?"

"You will need it, though, sooner or later. You always do this, constantly jumping headfirst into everything without regard for the consequences. You make a mess and then leave it for everyone else to clean up."

"Pfft, do you even hear yourself right now? You sound ridiculous, psychoanalysing me like you're Dr. Pill or Oprah Lymphrey."

"You're impossible to have a serious conversation with, and I am sick of it," Drix spat, pushing past Ozzy and opening the door. He turned back to him and said quietly, "you want to run away from all your problems, Ozzy? That's fine by me, just don't expect me to be here when it all falls apart."

"Hey! Where do you think you're goin'? I wanted to be the one to storm out!" Ozzy yelled after him, but Drix didn't reply, and simply slammed the door shut behind him, leaving Ozzy alone.

He cursed under his breath and kicked the door, before storming over to his bed and throwing himself on top. He buried his face in the pillow and fisted the sheets, groaning loudly. What the fuck just happened? How did it get to that point?

He turned his head to the side to stare at the wall, tracing his finger over one of the band members on his poster. Although arguing with Drix over small things was nothing new to him, this was the first time it had ever escalated to this point before, and he'd never seen Drix so angry in all his life.

Maybe I did go too far. I usually do, it's like I don't know when to shut up. Like my brain just starts firing off and I can't stop it.

Why did he have to go and mention my dad, though? He knows I don't like talking about him, and to say that I'm using Roja as a substitute for him? That was seriously so fucked up.

Ozzy shut his eyes and exhaled deeply, letting his body sink into the sheets below. Roja is so much more than just a dad. More than a teacher. More than a stupid schoolgirl crush. He's literally everything.

I wonder if Drix will ever understand that. Maybe if he saw us together, saw the way we are with each other, then he'd get it.

Ozzy opened his eyes and let out a long sigh. If he ever comes back, that is. God, what if he really meant it when he said he's sick of me? What if he just never comes back, or he does come back, but it's only to pack up his stuff and leave me forever, like everyone else?

Ozzy shook his head and sat up to lean against the headboard. Nah, he wouldn't do that. He couldn't live without me. He's stuck with me, and I'm stuck with him, whether we like it or not.

He'll be back in a bit and then we'll apologise to each other and carry on as normal and it'll all be fine.

Just as Ozzy predicted, Drix did come back after a few hours, and they both apologised and hugged it out.

They then watched a few episodes of their favourite series together and ordered some takeaway sushi to share. All was going well, and their little spat seemed to be all but forgotten, until Ozzy made an off-handed comment about Drix's tie collection, that is.

That was all it took to set them both off again, and from that point on it had been argument after argument, until Drix decided to give Ozzy the silent treatment, knowing that there was nothing he hated more in this world than being ignored.

After only one day, Ozzy already felt like he was going insane. Drix hadn't said a word to him since Saturday night, and there seemed to be no way to get him to start talking again.

It was now Monday morning, and Ozzy was dragging his feet towards the science block to his Biology class. He reached the doors and pushed them open, sighing heavily. The only thing that could make me feel better right now is Roja. I think I'm just gonna wait here until he arrives so we can walk to class together and I can talk to him about it. He'll know what to do.

Ozzy leaned against the wall with one shoulder and looked down at his watch. 8:42am. Professor Roja usually came into class at around 8:45, meaning it couldn't be long before he walked through those doors.

He turned to lean his back against the wall and watched the doors closely, counting every long, arduous second that went by. God, why does time always move so slowly when you're waiting? And why is he always so perfectly punctual? Can't he be a little bit early just this once?

He let his hand fall to his side and started kicking his left leg back and forth, flinching as the doors were suddenly pushed open.

He grinned and jumped out in front of the professor, making him jump. "G'morning, sir! How're ya doing? I'm so glad to see you-" he started to say, suddenly falling silent when the professor simply walked straight past him.

Ozzy frowned and ran after him, looping his arm through the professor's as soon as he caught up with him. "Hey, sir! Maybe you didn't hear me before, I asked how you were doing! Didja sleep well? Didja have a good weekend? I didn't, it was pretty shit to be honest. Drips is being a right pain in the ass lately, he's really gettin' on my nerves, but anyway, enough about him, how are you? I was wonderin' if you possibly maybe wanted to go get coffee-"

The professor pulled his arm away and frowned. "Coffee? What about you and Drix?"

Ozzy laughed and grabbed onto the professor's arm again with both hands, leaning his weight against his side. "Oh, don't you worry about him, he just got a little jealous over how close you and me are, but he'll get over it."

"But won't this affect your relationship?"

"Nah nah, we've known each other for years, this won't even leave a dent."

"Oh, good, that's… good," the professor replied, his voice weak. He zoned out then, staring straight ahead as they both continued to walk down the corridor towards the hall.

"Yeah, me and Drix are, like, super duper close. We do argue sometimes, but we love each other, so it's all good."

The professor swallowed thickly as Ozzy continued to talk, his chest tightening over every mention of Drix's name. "Right, yeah, you said that already."

"Did I? Sorry, I tend to repeat myself sometimes, it annoys Drix loads. Anyway, so me and Drix had this horrible argument on Friday after we saw you at the café and it basically carried on over the whole weekend, and we're still not speaking, but like I said, we'll be fine in a couple of days. This happens all the time, we fight and then we make up and we're even closer than we were before…"

The professor inhaled sharply, shutting his eyes for a moment as he tried to block out Ozzy's incessant babbling. God, is he doing this on purpose? Why is he holding onto my arm and leaning against me like this while he talks about his boyfriend? Is this revenge for the way I treated him before? What the fuck is even going on?

Mercifully, they soon reached the lecture hall, and the professor pulled his arm away to unlock the door. Ozzy rolled his weight from his heels to his toes as he waited, his hands behind his back.

The professor cursed under his breath as he looked for the right key, his brow furrowed, and Ozzy stopped rocking back and forth, drawing closer to the professor to place a hand on his shoulder. "You okay, sir?"

The professor nodded, limiting himself to a simple, "mhm," before hooking the door open and heading inside the classroom.

Ozzy frowned and followed him inside, trailing behind him as he made his way over to the podium. "You sure?"

"Yep," the professor replied, his tone brusque.

Ozzy rested his forearms on the podium and cocked his head as he looked up at him, a concerned expression on his face. "You don't seem okay. Has something happened? Has someone been a jerk to you? Need me to kick their ass?"

The professor shook his head and waved his hand in the direction of the seats. "Go sit down, Jones. The rest of the class will be here soon."

"Oh, is that what you're worried about? That people will see us together? No one's gonna think anything weird just from seein' us talkin' to each other. Ya don't gotta stress about that, Thraxy."

"Don't call me that."

Ozzy frowned and moved back slightly. "But you said I could-"

"I know what I said. Sit down, Jones."

Ozzy stared at him for a moment, waiting for a smile to break out on his face to show him that this was all just a big joke. However, he simply looked back down at his textbook and told Ozzy to go sit down again, his tone harsher this time.

Ozzy blinked at him a few times, before shutting his eyes and dropping his head. He swung his body around and headed over to his desk, his hands in his pockets. Fuck, why is he so mad at me? What the hell have I done this time?

He lifted the chair up so it wouldn't scrape across the floor and quickly sat down. He stared down at his hands for a few seconds, before daring to raise his gaze to look at the professor.

He was frowning, his hand pressed to his cheek as he read through the textbook, his posture tense and his expression serious.

Ozzy looked back down at his hands and shut his eyes, taking in a breath. I don't get it. Why's he acting so cold with me? It's as if we've gone back in time to when he hated me. Before the tennis match, before the exam, before the review.

And the worst part is he won't even tell me why. How am I meant to fix this if he won't let me?

He exhaled heavily, lifting his eyes again to catch the professor staring at him. Their gaze got stuck on each other for a brief moment, before the professor frowned and looked back down at his textbook again, and Ozzy felt his heart sink.

Why is everyone so mad at me at the moment? Don't tell me I'm gonna lose him, too.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised, really. Everyone gets sick of me eventually. Even my own dad didn't want me, how can I expect my teacher to care?

Ozzy felt tears prick the corner of his eyes. Why did he pretend, though? Why did he go to all the trouble to act like he cared at all? Why would he lead me on, especially after finding out about everything that had happened with my parents.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked down at his lap to hide his face. Maybe it's revenge. Maybe he never liked me, and this has all just been an elaborate plan to get back at me for disrespecting him at the start of term.

Ozzy frowned and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. No, y'know what? I'm sick of always questioning everything with him and never knowing where I stand. I'm just gonna ask him point blank. It's not like he can get away from me.

He sat up in his seat and cleared his throat, prompting the professor to look back up at him again. "What's going on with you, sir? Why are you actin' so weird all of a sudden?"

The professor sighed. "I'm fine. Now, please let me finish reading this-"

"Yeah, but you're not fine, though, are you? I dunno what the hell is goin' on here, but something's up with you and I think I deserve to know what it is."

The professor tilted his head back and groaned. "Jones, please, just drop it."

"No I will not drop it, and stop fuckin' callin' me 'Jones' like that."

The professor lowered his head to look at Ozzy again and narrowed his eyes. "Watch your language."

Ozzy frowned and stood up, slamming his hands on his desk. "Don't tell me what to do! What the hell is goin' on here, man? Not three days ago you came to my tennis match to support me and now you're-"

"Jones! Lower your voice! Someone might hear you," the professor hissed, rising to his feet and heading over to the door.

Ozzy rolled his eyes and groaned. "God, is that all you care about? People finding out that you went to my stupid match?"

"No, that's not all I care about, but if they-"

"Just answer me already!"

The professor closed the door and held it shut with his hand. "I have answered you; I've told you countless times that I'm fine. Why can't you just accept that?"

"Because you're not fine! It's written all over your face! Something's goin' on with you, and I think it has something to do with me, but if you won't tell me then I have no way of fixin' it, do I? What the hell happened to us being honest with each other? As I recall we both signed that fuckin' contract. Was it just a meaningless gesture to you? Because it wasn't to me! Funnily enough it actually meant something to me!"

The professor leaned his back against the door and shut his eyes, sighing heavily. "Of course it wasn't meaningless. I just… I don't know how to… It's all so difficult, Ozzy."

"What's difficult?"

"Everything. I've got the FPD breathing down my neck, I've been missing my own classes and losing focus, not to mention everything with you and Drix."

"I told ya not to worry about Drix, there's nothing-"

The professor slammed his hand on the wall next to him, cutting Ozzy off mid sentence. "It's not just about you and Drix! You really don't get it, do it? It's not good for me to be around you."

"What do you mean?" Ozzy asked quietly, sitting back down in his seat.

"We have to stop this."

"Stop what?"

"This. Whatever this thing is between us."

Ozzy shrunk down in his seat and swallowed thickly. "You mean…?"

The professor took in a breath and shut his eyes. "Yes. You are not to speak to me outside of class anymore. Whatever this is, it's over."

Ozzy ripped yet another page out of his notepad, scrunched it up into a ball and threw it into the trash can to his left. He brought his hands up to his face and groaned loudly, prompting the librarian to poke her head around the corner and shush him.

Ozzy raised his head to scowl at her, before looking back down at his notepad and sighing. He'd been at the library for almost two hours now trying to write an essay for his Criminology class, but he'd thrown away three drafts already, and he was starting to get fed up.

He didn't enjoy writing at the best of times, but with everything that had happened with Professor Roja the day before, writing an essay about mental health in the criminal justice system was the very last thing he wanted to be doing right now.

He shut his eyes and buried his head in his hands as he started to think back to his Biology class yesterday. To everyone else it had probably seemed like an ordinary lesson, with the professor explaining the brief for the week, before setting a few exercises and then asking various questions about the topic.

Some of the more astute students in the class might have noticed that Ozzy was especially quiet, or that the professor was asking questions to everyone except him, but they would have probably just chalked that up to yet another argument between them before the class began.

Ozzy opened his eyes and looked back down at his Criminology essay. He grabbed his pen and started on the introduction for the fourth time, his handwriting becoming less legible with every draft as his hand grew more tired and his patience wore thinner.

He frowned as a particularly annoying song started playing on his EyePod, and ripped his earbuds out, scrunched them up in his hands and shoved them into his rucksack, before slamming his forehead down onto the table a couple of times.

He heard someone laugh then, and lifted his head to glare at whoever it was, flinching as he saw the professor standing on the other side of the table with a few textbooks under his arm.

Ozzy sat up in his seat and straightened out his clothes as best he could, mumbling, "h-hey, sir. What are you doin' here?"

The professor smirked. "I should ask you the same question. I didn't expect to find you in the library this late on a Tuesday night. You're not exactly the type, no offence."

Ozzy shook his head, a small smile spreading across his face. "None taken, this is actually the first time I've stepped foot in here, heh." He relaxed into his seat and cocked his head slightly. "So, what are you doin' here, then? It's a bit late for gradin' homework, surely."

The professor drew closer and dropped his books on the table. "A new unit was added to the third year syllabus without my knowledge, so I'm just getting some books to brush up on the subject before the module starts next week."

"Oh, it's weird to think that teachers have to study too."

The professor laughed and pulled the chair out from under the table. "You never stop studying, Ozzy. Life is constantly changing, even when you're my age. The simplest act or gesture could turn your whole world upside down and throw everything into chaos."

He sat down on the seat and looked straight at Ozzy, his chin resting on both hands. "But then, there are times when someone comes into your life, and it's as if everything just… makes sense. Like you can suddenly see clearly. Maybe you're too young to understand that, but-"

"No, I know what you mean, sir," Ozzy interjected. He frowned and fiddled with his pen for a moment, plucking up the courage to ask him a question. "Uhm, I thought you said we weren't gonna talk outside of class?"

The professor took in a breath, before smiling and saying quietly, "well… the library counts as class, right?"

"Oh, yeah, I guess."

There was a moment of heavy silence then, until the professor spoke up again. "So, how's your life been since the whole NAV armband stunt last week? You're practically famous now."

"Hmm, fifty-fifty. The Biology guys seem to have softened towards me a bit, and some people in the street even recognised me from my newspaper article, but my Criminology classmates hate me now. I guess that's to be expected from a bunch of wannabe cops, though, eh?"

"Hm, I suppose. What about your uncle? Has he said anything about it?"

Ozzy tutted and rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, he had a lot to say. He rang me on Saturday as soon as he read my interview in the morning paper. It's the first time he's rung me since I got here over four weeks ago, and it was just to have a go at me, the fuckin' dickhead."

"Oh, I thought you liked him? I mean, I know he's not your dad, but I thought you two had a good relationship?"

"Pfft, yeah right. I used to think so too when I was younger."

"What changed?"

Ozzy shrugged and looked down at the table. "I dunno, I guess I just started seeing things more clearly once I came here, really."

"Like what?"

"Just everything. I was never good enough for him, no matter what I did. I used to stay up super late to study in a sad attempt to get good grades, or try my hardest to get onto any sports team I could and score the most points, literally anything to get his attention, but it was never enough."

He raised his gaze and said in a low voice, "and I guess coming here and being able to look back at it from an outside perspective really just showed me the reality of it all. He'd never love me like a son, and he'd never be my dad. I'd always just be his annoying nephew that he got stuck with. A burden."

"Ozzy… you don't really think that, do you?" the professor asked quietly, his brow furrowed.

Ozzy shrugged, and the professor reached out to take his hand. "You're not a burden. You never were. You were just a kid that needed taking care of." He squeezed his hand and lowered his voice to a whisper. "And there's nothing wrong with wanting to feel loved, Ozzy."

Silence fell between them then, but it wasn't an awkward silence. It was easy, comforting, appropriate, and Ozzy turned his hand around to run a finger over the professor's palm, following the creases down to his wrist. "Thank you," he whispered, looking back down at his notepad.

The silence between them stretched for a moment, until the professor cleared his throat and smiled. "So… you never answered my question. What are you doing here so late?"

Ozzy withdrew his hand and tapped his notepad with his pen. "I'm tryna write an essay for my Criminology class."

"Oh, and you needed a specific book or something?"

"No, it's just that me and Drix have been arguing a lot lately, and he keeps playin' his 'Sound of Music' soundtrack at full blast because he knows I hate it when the kids start singin'. I couldn't hear myself think with him screechin' all the lyrics and dancin' from one side of the room to the other, so I came here."

The professor rolled his eyes and smiled. "Trouble in paradise."

Ozzy shook his head. "Living with Drips is far from paradise, trust me."

"Yeah, I bet. He's a fantastic student, but I imagine being in a relationship with him could have its difficulties. He can be very… particular."

"Yeah," Ozzy said with a laugh. He lifted his head to look at the professor and frowned. "Wait, what do you mean by that? You don't think me and Drips are…?"

A huge smile broke out on his face then, and he started laughing loudly. He screwed his eyes shut and bent over in his seat as he clutched his stomach with one hand, banging the table with the other.

The librarian poked her head around the corner and shushed him, prompting Ozzy to clamp his hand over his mouth to try and muffle his laughter, his shoulders shuddering.

The professor frowned. "What's so funny?"

Ozzy took a deep breath to compose himself and turned to smile at the professor. "You seriously think that me and Drips are a couple? No no no, you've got it all wrong, man! Sure, he's my best friend, and easily my favourite person in the whole of Frank, but we're not together. Can you even imagine?! We'd kill each other!"

"But weren't you two on a date the other day?"

Ozzy furrowed his brow. "A date? When were we on a… oh! You mean at the café? Nooo, that was our weekly lil friendship date, but it wasn't a date date."

The professor's face lit up at that, and he let out a small laugh. "Oh, well that's good then, I mean not good, but good to know."

Ozzy cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. "Is that why you've been all weird with me lately? Because you thought that me and Drix were together?"

The professor parted his lips and took in a breath, the heat rising to his face. "Um, well, Drix seemed to get so mad at you the other day when he saw me and you talking, I didn't wanna… I mean, I thought that it would be best to-"

Ozzy tapped him on the back of the hand and smirked. "You babble so much when you're nervous."

The professor rolled his eyes and flicked Ozzy's hand away. "Shut up. I don't get nervous, and I definitely don't babble." He sat up straight in his chair and smiled. "Now that I think about it, you and Drix don't make much sense as a couple at all. I mean, how would it even work between you two?"

A faint blush spread across his cheeks then, and his eyes widened. "And by 'it' I mean your relationship in general, because, uh, your personalities are so different and-" he stammered, his voice getting slightly louder.

Ozzy tutted. "What was that about you not babbling? Also, lower your voice, we're in a library." He leaned in closer and smiled, his eyelids heavy. "And I know what you meant, you dirty old man."

The professor's mouth fell open at that, and he picked up the lightest textbook he had to tap Ozzy on the head with it. "Careful, Jones. Old or not, I could still kick your ass."

"I'd like to see you try," he replied, before leaning back in his chair. "How old are you, anyways?"

The professor smirked. "Why do you want to know that?"

"Me and Drips have a little bet goin'."

"Over how old I am? Why?"

Ozzy shrugged. "I dunno. We got bored one day and just started makin' guesses."

"Oh, right. So what bets did you place, then?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Drips thinks you're in your late forties, and I think you're closer to thirty-five."

The professor arched an eyebrow at that, before ripping a piece of paper out of Ozzy's notepad and picking up a pen. "Right, lemme just write down a little reminder to myself to give Drix no higher than a C in his next exam…" he said, making Ozzy laugh.

He finished writing and lifted his gaze to look at Ozzy again. "And you were closer, by the way. I'm thirty-six."

"Awh yes!" Ozzy said, punching the air. "Thanks, sir! That means that Drips has to clean the bathroom for a whole month!"

The professor laughed a little too loudly at that, and the librarian shushed them again, clearly losing her patience with them both.

The professor rolled his eyes and gestured towards the door with his thumb. "Let's get outta here. I can walk you back to your dorm if ya like."

Ozzy nodded and put everything back in his rucksack, before jumping to his feet and hurrying around the table to loop his arm through the professor's.

The professor frowned, but made no effort to pull his arm away as they continued towards the exit. "We shouldn't be doing this… it's really risky," he whispered, pushing on the door and stepping outside into the courtyard.

Ozzy looked up at him and loosened his grip around his arm. "Oh, yeah, sorry," he said quietly, sliding his arm away.

The professor tutted and grabbed his wrist to link their arms again. "Don't apologise. I wasn't really saying that to you. I was more… thinking aloud."

They walked in silence for a while, Ozzy leaning more of his weight on the professor as they went, until they arrived at a small park on the edge of the science block. The professor looked over his shoulder, before taking Ozzy's hand again and leading him over to a bench that was hidden away in a dark corner under a few trees.

He sat down and pulled Ozzy next to him, lacing his claws with his fingers. "I've got a question for ya…" he started, taking a deep breath. "The other day, at your tennis match… did you come back for me? You know, after you had that interview?"

Ozzy stared at him for a second, tightening his grip around his hand. "Of course I did. Why? Didja think I'd just left you there?"

"I don't know, I guess part of me knew you would come back, and I wanted to stay and wait until you did, but I had to rush off. I had a class at 12pm that I really couldn't miss."

"Yeah, and at 10am," Ozzy said, poking the professor on the shoulder.

"Oh, Drix told you about that?"

"Yep. I know aaall about how you skipped your class to come and watch me play. Very unprofessional of you, sir. I should report you to the director, really."

"And why don't you?"

"Nah, I'll keep ya around for a bit longer, I like messin' with ya too much," he said, shifting a little closer to the professor.

"Well, just make sure not to prank me again. Tears will only work on me once, Jonesy. Next time I won't be so nice."

"Ohh, that was you being nice, was it? Callin' me arrogant and moronic and sayin' that I deserved to be given up as a kid? Jeez, I'd hate to see you when you're angry."

The professor looked down at his claws then and smiled sadly. "Yeah, you would."

There was another moment of silence, until the professor looked back up at Ozzy and said, "can I ask you something else?"

Ozzy tilted his head to the side and smiled. "Well, technically it's my turn to ask you a question, but I'll let you off this time. Shoot."

"Have you thought anymore about coming on the hypothalamus trip this Friday?"

Ozzy sighed and shifted closer to him to lean his head on his shoulder. "Yeah, I'd love to, but Drips told me that it costs like 430 Calories to go, and I-I really can't afford that right now. I basically blew all my savings on new clothes and stuff."

He brought his legs up to rest them on the bench, nuzzling further against the professor. "Why is it so expensive anyhow? It's only one night, right?"

The professor closed his eyes and exhaled as he felt Ozzy lean more of his weight against him, before replying. "Yeah, but it's one night in the brain. Everything is more expensive up there. Also you need special access to get into the hypothalamus, and the keycard alone costs 100 Calories. Then you've gotta factor in the bus ride there and back, plus the food… it all adds up."

"Oh, right. I guess that makes sense." He shut his eyes and rested a hand on the professor's thigh, lightly tracing random shapes with his finger. "It's probably best I don't go anyway. Drips is right, I'm not a sophomore, and I don't wanna take up someone else's spot."

"Don't let that stop you. I already cleared it with the trip leader, so there's no problem there."

"Aren't you the trip leader?"

"Nah, you kidding? They would never let a virus lead a trip like this. Too risky. The fact I'm even going has caused quite a lot of controversy with the university board."

"Why are you going, then?"

"Because I know more about the hypothalamus than any other teacher here at Cornea."

"Oh, is it like your specialist subject, or something?"

"You could say that, yeah. But anyway, you gonna come on this trip, or what?"

Ozzy shifted a bit to look up at him. "Are there any rooms left at the hotel?"

"Hmm… that's a good question. I'll have to ring and check, but if not, we could always set up a little crib in the corner of Drix's room for you," the professor said with a smirk, earning a slap on the thigh.

"Oh, fuck you," Ozzy hissed, pushing on the professor's arm to sit up straight again. "You're trippin'. I'm not that small."

"Jones, you're tiny. You barely even come up to my chest."

"Because you're freakishly tall! I bet you can't even fit in those hotel beds!"

"Nah nah nah, don't you worry about that, baby, I paid for the extra large suite."

"You are so full of it," Ozzy said, rolling his eyes. "So that must mean the rumour's true, then."

The professor frowned. "What rumour?"

"The one about you being loaded."

The professor smiled at that. "God, is that really what people say about me? Good to know. Nah, I'm not loaded. I just spend my money on important things. There's a difference."

"Oh, like fancy sweaters and expensive hotel rooms, you mean?"

"Exactly, and don't forget the watches and the nice car."

Ozzy perked up at that, a big smile creeping across his face. "Okay, now you've got my attention. What type of car have you got then? Can I see it?"

The professor tutted and shook his head. "Maybe another time. If you're really good, I might take you for a spin one of these days."

Ozzy's smile faded slightly, and he looked down at his lap. "Um, yeah, that sounds fun."

The professor's face fell, and he cocked his head. "What's up?"

"Uhm, nothin'," Ozzy said quietly, before frowning and balling his hands into fists. "Actually, no, not nothin'. I've got something I wanna ask ya. Can I?"

"Sure, anything."

"What is this?" Ozzy asked quietly, gesturing between the two of them with his hand.

The professor furrowed his brow. "This?"

"This. Us. Whatever the hell is goin' on here."

The professor blinked at him and parted his lips to speak, when Ozzy continued, raising his gaze to look the professor in the eye. "One minute you're hugging me in front of hundreds of people and whispering in my ear about how special I am, and then the next minute you're ignoring me and telling me you don't want to have anything to do with me outside of class. And now you're talkin' to me again, but it's not normal talkin'. No, there's nothing normal about it."

"Ozzy, listen…"

Ozzy frowned and sat up straight, gesticulating with his hands as he spoke. "No, you listen to me for a second. There's something between us, I know there is, but you'll no doubt just pull away again in a few days, and it'll hurt me so fucking much when you do. I can't take this anymore. It's killin' me. Either you like me, or you don't, but right now I'm so fuckin' lost, and I need you to help me understand what the hell is goin' on here."

The professor stared at him for a moment, before inhaling deeply and looking down at his claws. "I can't… I mean, I don't know…"

"What do you mean you don't know? It's an easy question. Do you like me or not?"

"It's not an easy question and you know it."

"Why the hell not? It's literally yes or no. It couldn't be easier!"

"No, it's way more than just yes or no. It's complicated… and messy."

"Am I just a student to you? Or am I more than that?"

The professor sighed and shut his eyes. "You're trying to quantify something intangible."

Ozzy scrunched up his face. "Oh come on, stop using fancy words to try and throw me off. Just answer me. What am I to you?"

The professor reached out and took Ozzy's hand in his own, squeezing lightly. "You're my student. That's all you can ever be. Regardless of how we may or may not feel towards each other, none of it matters, because we can't. You know we can't."

Ozzy stared at him for a moment, before looking down at his lap. "Okay. Fine. At least I got my answer."

"Ozzy, I'm sorry, I-" the professor started to say, falling silent as he felt Ozzy lean against his shoulder again and rest his hand on his thigh. He frowned and tried to move away slightly, but Ozzy simply followed him. "Uh, Jones, what the hell are you doing?"

"Leanin' on you. Is there a problem with that? Is the weight of my massive genius brain too much for ya?"

The professor tutted. "No, but didn't you hear what I just said?"

"Yeah, I heard ya."

"But… I don't get it. What if someone sees?"

"There's nothing to see. Like you said, I'm your student and you're my teacher, end of."

"This isn't exactly what teachers and students normally do, though."

"Pfft, what the hell is normal anyway? Normal's fuckin' boring."

"That may be so, but acting normal and following the rules stops you from getting arrested and flushed out the body."

"Since when do you follow the rules?!"

"Since my life started depending on it."

"And does that make you happy? Livin' to please other people?"

"Mhm…" the professor said, smiling as he felt Ozzy grab his arm to put it around his shoulder. "No, not really."

"And doesn't this feel so much better? A bit of rule breakin' every once in a while is good for ya,'' Ozzy said, shutting his eyes and nuzzling into the professor's side.

"Wise words from an aspiring detective."

"Hey, all the best detectives are mavericks," he replied, sliding his hand over the professor's stomach. "God, you're so much… softer than I'd imagined."

The professor smiled at that and let his eyelids roll shut, humming quietly as he felt Ozzy slowly sink more of his weight into him. "How did you imagine I'd feel?"

"Hmm… I dunno. Hard and spiky all over, I guess."

The professor laughed quietly and tightened his grip on Ozzy's shoulder to pull him closer. "Nah, just on the inside."

"That's bullshit. You're the most sensitive person I know."

The professor raised an eyebrow at that. "Y'know… you're actually really smart. I reckon you'll make a great detective when you're older. It's like you perceive things that no one else does."

"Yeah, I know. Now be quiet for a minute, will ya?" Ozzy whispered, pressing his cheek to the professor's chest.

The professor laughed, but did as he was told, shutting his eyes again and sliding his other arm around Ozzy's waist. They sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the sound of each other breathing among the distant noise of the city.

After a while, Ozzy tugged on the professor's sweater and lifted his head. "Can you turn to face me?"

"Mmh? How d'ya mean?"

"Like, turn your body more towards me, I'm uncomfortable."

"Since when did you start telling me what to do?"

Ozzy tutted and moved back. "Fine, I'll get off ya if you're gonna be like that."

The professor groaned and turned his torso towards Ozzy, lifting one leg up to rest it on the bench. "There, is that better?"

"Much better," Ozzy said smugly. He lay back down and rested his head in the middle of the professor's chest, drawing small circles on his stomach with his finger. "Teach me somethin'," he muttered, relaxing into him.

The professor frowned and looked down. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you said we couldn't see each other outside of class anymore, so go on, teach me something. Make this a lesson."

The professor sighed and tightened his grip around Ozzy's shoulders. "Ozzy, when I said that yesterday, I was just upset about a few things. It wasn't really about you… I-I wasn't thinking and… I mean, I didn't… I didn't know how to…"

Ozzy tilted his head back to look up at the professor and frowned. "No offence, sir, but this lesson is absolutely shit. Did you even prepare anything?"

The professor grinned and dug his claws into Ozzy's lower back. "You're such a prick."

"Ow, that hurt," Ozzy hissed, jabbing his finger into his chest. He smirked then, and whispered, "and I may be a prick, but at least I don't have one of my students lying in between my legs."

"What? But you asked me to-"

"Yeah yeah, save it for the judge, you pervert."

"Shut your fucking mouth," the professor said with a laugh.

"Make me," Ozzy replied, his voice low and his eyelids heavy.

"Oh, it would be my pleasure."

"Go on then," Ozzy said, feeling his heartbeat flutter as the professor dropped his head slightly. He drew a breath and rolled his gaze down the professor's face, his eyes locking on his lips. "You can, y'know, if you want. I won't tel-"

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!

They both jumped then, and the professor groaned loudly, tilting his head back.

"What's that?" Ozzy asked, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed.

"That's my 9:30pm alarm," the professor replied, pressing the button on his watch to turn it off. "I gotta start heading home if I wanna make it back before 10."

"Oh yeah, heh, I forgot about that stupid 10pm rule."

"Yeah, it's a bitch," the professor said quietly. He gazed down at Ozzy for a moment, before squeezing his shoulder and patting his arm to get him to stand up. "Come on, I'll walk you the rest of the way home. I parked near your block anyway."

Ozzy leaned back onto his knees and smirked. "Oh, and how do you know where I live? That's not exactly something a teacher normally knows, is it?"

"Tsk, that ego of yours. Come on, let's go," the professor said, rising to his feet and gesturing with his head for Ozzy to do the same.

Ozzy jumped up from the bench and looped his arm through the professor's again as they started walking towards his dorm block. "You're one to talk about ego, with your pretentious clothes and personality. I don't know how I can stand to be around ya, to be honest."

"Right back atcha, Jones. You're one of the most annoying people I've ever met."

"And yet you can't get enough of me."

"God, don't you have an off switch?"

"Nah, scientists have tried, but there's no shutting me up, I'm afraid."

"I can think of one way…"

Ozzy frowned and snapped his head up to look at him. "Huh?"

"Nothing. Anyway, we're reaching the edge of the park now, don't you think you'd better let go of me?"

Ozzy tutted and tightened his grip around the professor's arm. "Don't worry, there's nobody around, they'll all be watchin' the Fungus vs Spores football game on TV. Besides, if anyone does come along, we can just pretend I've got a concussion or something and that you're helpin' me home."

The professor laughed. "You're fucking insane."

"I'm not the one that has my student's address memorised."

"Uy, there you go again. Okay, I only know it because it's in your damn file. I could find out any of y'all's addresses if I wanted to."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, sir."

"God, you're insufferable."

Ozzy grinned at him and reached up to prod him on the cheek. "And you love it."

The professor swatted Ozzy's hand away from his face and gripped hard onto his wrist. He then purposely started taking longer strides, laughing at all the insults spilling out of Ozzy's mouth as he tried to keep up.

"Slow the fuck down! Not all of us are leggy pricks like you!"

"Nah, I don't think I will. Come on, Jonesy, try to keep up with me," he taunted, speeding up into a jog.

It didn't take long to reach Ozzy's street, and mercifully the professor stopped jogging and let go of Ozzy's wrist as soon as they turned the corner.

"Ah, there's nothing like an evening run, am I right?"

"Fuck you," Ozzy said with a laugh, pushing on the professor's chest. He stepped backwards and smiled, his breathing heavy. "Thanks for walkin' me home, well, draggin' me home. I'd invite you inside but I don't really fancy having to bail ya outta jail, so I guess you best be off, right?"

"Mhm," the professor said with a smile. "Yeah, I'll head off now, but before I go…" He reached into his satchel and pulled out an envelope. "Here's that exam that you did a while back. Sorry it took so long to grade."

Ozzy took it from him and frowned. "Why's it in an envelope? And why's it so thick?"

"Well, it was a pretty big exam, and I didn't want any of the pages to get lost."

"You coulda just stapled them."

The professor shrugged. "Yeah, I guess I could've. But an envelope looks way cooler, dontcha think?"

Ozzy nodded and slipped his thumb under the envelope flap to open it, but the professor stopped him. "Do me a favour, would ya? Wait until you're inside, and alone, before you open it."

Ozzy looked back up at him and cocked his head. "Why?"

"Please, just promise me," he said, making his eyes as big as possible.

"Ugh, fine. How can I say no if you look at me like that? Okay, I promise I'll wait until I'm in my room to open it."

The professor smiled and raised his hand to ruffle Ozzy's hair. "There's a good boy." He looked at his watch again. "Shit, I gotta skedaddle, it's 9:40pm already."

"Will you get home in time?"

"If I ignore the speed limit, yeah." He smiled at Ozzy and cupped his cheek with his hand for a second, before turning on his heels to start walking down the street. "By the way, email me if you change your mind about the hypothalamus trip," he called out.

Ozzy frowned and lowered the envelope. "It's not a matter of changing my mind, sir, I can't afford it."

The professor waved his hand and tilted his head back, replying, "just think it over, Jones. Good night."

Ozzy watched him walk to the end of the road, not looking away until he had turned the corner. He's so fuckin' weird. Why can't he just communicate like a normal person? It's like he's talking in riddles all the time.

Sighing, he spun around to head to his dorm block and rummaged around in his pocket for the key. He pushed the door open and trudged up the stairs to his room, staring down at the envelope in his hands. God, the urge to open this is killing me! I wonder why he didn't want me to open it in front of him.

Maybe I've failed and he didn't wanna have to see me cry again. Or maybe it's a letter explaining his feelings for me. Or maybe it's a restraining order. God, what could it be?!

He picked up the pace and started taking the stairs two at a time, tripping over his shoelaces once or twice, before reaching his corridor and running to his room.

He unlocked his door and peered round to see Drix sitting at his desk, humming away to the music from his headphones. Ozzy tiptoed in and shut the door as softly as possible, before running over to his bed and stuffing the envelope under his pillow.

He then darted over to Drix and threw his arms over his shoulders, making him jump. Ozzy ripped his headphones off and nuzzled against his capsule, whispering, "I'm sorry for being such a prick. Can we be friends again?"

After a long conversation and a couple of takeaway pizzas, Ozzy and Drix both decided that it was time to put an end to their little feud. Moving forward, Drix agreed that he would actually listen to what Ozzy was saying before offering a solution to his problems, while Ozzy promised to try and not overreact so much, and to take a moment to think about what he was going to say rather than just blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

They both apologised for everything they had said to each other over the last few days, before hugging it out and pinky swearing to not let it get to that point again.

They spent the rest of the evening watching 'West Backside Story', one of Drix's favourite musicals, and Ozzy even joined in and sang along to a few of the most famous songs.

Ozzy was now laying in bed and staring at the ceiling, unable to shut his brain off. Although his argument with Drix had finally come to an end, he still couldn't stop his mind from racing.

Deep down, he knew Professor Roja was right. They probably should stop talking to each other outside of class, but despite this, Ozzy couldn't stop trying to think of ways that would make it okay for them to be together.

Okay, yeah he's my teacher, but so what? This isn't high school, I'm of legal age, and it's not like it's against the law to date your college students.

I can't imagine it would go down well with the directors, though. He'd probably have to quit his job if anyone found out.

Unless… I dropped my Biology minor. It's only the beginning of term, so I'm sure it wouldn't be a problem. Then he technically wouldn't be my teacher anymore, and he wouldn't be in a position of power over me, so it would be fine, right?

And sure, there would still be the massive age gap, but that'll seem smaller with every passing year. Right now he's double my age. Okay, even I can admit that that sounds bad, but in 10 years I'll be almost 30 and he'll be 46, that sounds much more normal.

Ozzy turned onto his side and traced the patterns on the wall with his finger. No. It still wouldn't work. Even if you ignore the fact he's my teacher and that he's loads older, we're still left with one huge problem.

Cells and viruses can't be together. If anyone caught wind of our relationship, he'd be arrested, NAV would get disbanded, and everything he'd ever worked for would be destroyed.

They might even kill him for it. My uncle would go ballistic if he found out. He'd probably kick me out and tell me never to contact him again, while making sure the professor got the harshest trial possible, ending up in him being shot or flushed out or lysed.

Ozzy took in a breath and closed his eyes. God, this is horrible. It should be so fucking simple, and yet it feels like we're asking for the impossible.

Part of me thinks I should just listen to Drix and try to put some distance between me and Roja, for both our sakes. I can continue with my studies and try to become a detective like I always wanted, and he can keep teaching and fighting for virus rights.

It wouldn't be easy, seeing him everyday and knowing that I can't have him, but that feeling would numb over time, surely.

Ozzy groaned quietly and turned onto his front to shove his face into the pillow. However, there's this other part of me that thinks the opposite. I know I'm young and this all probably sounds crazy, but I feel like we're meant to be together. I could make him so fucking happy.

I'm sure he feels it too, but obviously it's harder for him. He's the teacher here. He's the one who has to break the law and put his life in danger, not me. I should probably just follow his lead and…

Ozzy was broken out of his train of thought then as he heard Drix mumble something incoherent. He turned over to face him and whispered, "whatcha say, bud? D'ya need me to turn on your nightlig-" but he fell silent as soon as he saw that Drix was already fast asleep.

He smiled and pushed himself onto his knees. This means I can finally find out what's in that envelope!

He shoved his hand under his pillow and pulled out the envelope that Professor Roja had given him. He stared at it for a second, before sliding his thumb under the flap and opening it. Fuck, I'm so nervous. It feels like whatever's in here is gonna change my entire life.

He stuck his hand inside and pulled out some papers, feeling almost disappointed when he saw that it was just his exam. Oh, I guess there was nothing to worry about, then.

He started flicking through the pages in search of his grade, and a big smile broke out on his face when he came to the last sheet, seeing a big, fat 'A' written at the top in red pen, with a messy 'Well done, Jones' next to it.

"Yess!" he whispered, shutting his eyes and punching the air. He opened his eyes again and gripped tightly onto the page. Oh my God, I've never gotten anything above a B before, this is huge! He stared at his grade for a moment, before noticing a tiny little note written at the very bottom of the page.

'P.S. Check the envelope again.'

"What the…?" He dropped his exam papers onto the bed and reached into the envelope again, only to pull out a much smaller one that had been at the very bottom under his exam papers.

He stared at it in his hands for a second, holding his breath. Shit. Okay, NOW I'm nervous.

He carefully peeled the flap of the envelope open and gasped. "Holy shit! Holy fucking shit!" he whispered, a big smile spreading over his face.

There, in the envelope, was a big wad of cash, more than Ozzy had ever seen in his entire life. He rubbed his thumb over the wad and took a deep breath. What the fuck is wrong with him?! He's literally insane! Fuck, okay, first things first, let's count it all before I even try and make sense of what the hell this means.

He emptied all the money out onto the bed and started to count the bills under his breath, his hands shaking. "Twenty, forty, sixty, eighty… fuck, how much is there?!"

It took a minute or two, but he eventually counted 430 Calories in total. He slouched back down and stared at the money in his hands for a moment, his eyes wide. Fuck. It's the exact amount I need to go on the hypothalamus trip. That must be what he meant when he said to let him know if I wanted to go or not.

He reached over to grab his phone, only to see that the professor had already sent him an email. He swallowed thickly and opened it, laughing to himself as soon as he read what it said.

'?

-Thrax Roja.'

Ozzy rolled his eyes and tutted. He's such an old man. No one under 30 would type like that.

He hit reply to start typing out his response, but hesitated. I don't even know what to say to him. I feel like I shouldn't accept this, it's too much. It's not like lending your friend a fiver, this is huge.

Is it out of pity? Is he tryna buy me? Or is he just being nice? Argh! Why is everything so fucking complicated with him?!

Ozzy sucked some air in through his teeth as he mulled it around in his mind. Okay, let's ignore the money for a sec. Should I even go on this trip in the first place?

What if he suddenly gets into one of his moods and ignores me again while we're there? That'll kill me.

He's so annoying; one minute he's telling me not to talk to him anymore, and the next we're hugging in the park, and now he's fucking paying for me to come along on this trip with him.

His phone buzzed in his hand then, and he looked down to see another email from the professor.

'Ozzy?

-Thrax'

Ozzy sighed and gripped hard onto his phone. Okay, I do actually wanna go on this trip, and he CLEARLY wants me to go. Oh, what the hell?

He typed out his reply to confirm his place on the trip, before leaving his phone on the nightstand and laying back down on his bed. He pulled the sheets over his shoulders and smiled as he remembered something the professor had said back in the park.

"Nah, I'm not loaded. I just spend my money on important things."