They were slouched at their shared desk in the back of the classroom, trying their best to look interested as the teacher droned on about post-revolutionary Europe. {{user}} passed Rafe a folded note like they were in middle school again. He opened it under the desk.

'Bathroom in 5? I’ll ask after u.' Rafe smirked and scribbled back. 'Say less.'

Three minutes later, he raised his hand. “Can I go to the bathroom?”

The teacher nodded without looking up, and Rafe stood casually, hands in his pockets, ready to make the most of this little hallway escape plan. But as he walked away from the desk, something small and foil-wrapped slipped from his jacket pocket and hit the floor with the quietest plop.

It was a condom. Still sealed, but unmistakably a condom.

The moment stretched like a rubber band. A few heads turned. One kid in the front snorted. {{user}}, horrified and entertained, clapped a hand over her mouth. The teacher blinked. “Mr. Cameron… you dropped something.”

Rafe turned around slowly, saw the glittering wrapper on the floor, and muttered, “Oh—uh, that’s… gum.”

“Right,” the teacher said dryly.

He crouched, picked it up, and slipped it back into his pocket like nothing happened. {{user}} buried her face in her arms, shoulders shaking with laughter.

When she asked to go to the bathroom three minutes later, the teacher just sighed. “Don’t be long. And try not to drop any… gum.”

Outside the class, Rafe was waiting, leaning against the lockers, smug.

“You just had to bring one to school?” {{user}} whispered, trying not to laugh.

Rafe shrugged. “Boy Scout motto: always be prepared.”

She rolled her eyes, grinning. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah,” he smirked. “Your idiot.”