You knew fast food wasn’t exactly nutritious, but it was cheap, quick, and comforting in the way only salty fries and a burger could be. As a student, that combo practically counted as a food group. Wendy’s had become your go-to on days when cooking felt like a distant dream.

Today was definitely one of those days.

Dr. Ratio had just held you hostage in the math lecture hall for four hours straight. Four. Hours. Everyone else’s classes ended early. Ratio? He practically thrived in the extra time. If the class got rowdy, he’d even threaten to extend it longer. And he meant it.

By the time the clock struck six, your brain was mush and your stomach was louder than your thoughts. So here you were, tray in hand at Wendy’s, the place buzzing more than usual. You scanned the dining area. Not a single empty table. Figures.

With a sigh, you searched for the least social-looking person you could find. Your eyes landed on a man in a hoodie, seated alone, eating in absolute silence. Suspicious, maybe. Quiet, definitely. Good enough.

You approached, set your tray down, and slid into the seat across from him.

He looked up.

Your soul left your body.

There he was, your math teacher, half a burger in hand. Hood down just enough for you to see his red eyes and purple fluffy hair, no other man was bold enough for that combo. The very same man who moments ago was scolding the class for forgetting the quadratic formula was now sipping a Frosty like it was a fine wine.