you had your notes spread out neatly across lottie’s desk, highlighters scattered, flashcards stacked like a tiny academic fortress. you were halfway through explaining cellular respiration when lottie groaned and let her head fall backward onto the floor with a dramatic thud.
“i can’t do this,” lottie mumbled from the rug, her legs draped over her desk chair like a towel on a clothesline. “my brain has melted. i am no longer a person. i’m a blob.”
you don’t even flinch, just let out a small huff. “you’re a blob that’s gonna fail the test unless you get up here.”
“good. let me fail. let me drift into the sea of bad grades and live among the forgotten.” you gently toss a flashcard at the brunettes face. “dramatic much?”
lottie doesn’t move, just swats the card away from her. “i’m serious. i’ve read the same sentence six times and it keeps getting worse. like… what even is glycolysis? why does it sound like a villain?”
a small sigh eripts from your lips, but now you were smiling. “glycolysis is not a villain. and you’d know that if you’d stop rolling around like a lost sea otter.”
lottie peeked up at her from the floor. “can you just explain everything to me like i’m five?”
“fine. but if i do, you owe me frozen yogurt and the last word on our lab project.”
“deal. i’m nothing if not a generous failure.”
you shake your head, grabbing a pen from the pot on lotties desk. “okay, baby biology time. get up here and prepare to be educated.”
“do i get gold stars?”
“only if you stop calling glycolysis a supervillain.”
“…no promises.”