Trials and Tribulations

Part IV

He examined his schedule with a critical eye while Newt dragged the three of them around the bookstore in search of their supplies. Minho yawned behind them, grumbling about sleep deprivation and the musty scent of books, papers and writing utensils. Thomas ignored them as they walked.

His schedule wasn't nearly as packed as his boyfriends as he didn't have a definitive major. He and Minho were both Liberal Arts majors, yet with Minho's prowess in athleticism, his schedule was packed with training sessions and special programs. Newt, on the other hand, is a medical student. It was no surprise to Thomas the blond's schedule was packed with classes. At least he had small study hall sessions sprinkled throughout the day. Compared to them, Thomas's classes were few and far between. He had more free time to rot in their dorm and, hopefully, have less stress to deal with now that none of them were dying from weird diseases or overwhelming themselves with classes way out of their league. (He hoped anyway. It was still too early to call.)

Worse yet, he knew his classes were easy. Despite his outstanding examination scores and WCKD U's insistence on advanced courses, Thomas chose to keep his life simple this semester. The likelihood of passing all his classes with barely any attendance was extremely high, and with Newt and Minho being busy out the ass, Thomas felt he could get away with his horrible attendance. Unless it was Professor Janson in which case skipping English was not an option and more like a death sentence.

"You only have four classes this semester?"

Thomas turned to Minho in surprise, catching him read Thomas's schedule from his shoulder.

"Yeah, I didn't want to work too much this semester."

Newt scoffed in disapproval. He, just like the rest of the university staff, felt Thomas was wasting his potential in classes he didn't need.

"C'mon Tommy, you could've applied to more than that. You juggled six classes your first semester here and managed to pass them with flying colors. You should have signed up for their science program, you would do well."

Thomas scowled. "You sound like Rat Man: 'You would do well in our technology program, Thomas.' No thanks. I don't want to."

"I understand your pain, shuckface, but what are you going to do with all that free time? It's not like we're going to have the time to hang out this year."

Thomas shrugged. He hadn't thought that far. "I can help you train for the games this year." He suggested. Minho's brows rose up in contemplation. "Most of my classes are easy anyway. I think by the time the winter games come around, I'll be stress-free enough to help you train."

"Mm, a sweat-soaked Thomas helping me train. I think I like this idea." The athlete grinned. Thomas's blush made his grin more lecherous than it needed to be.

"I can already hear Professor Janson crying now." Newt sighed exasperatedly. He grabbed a heavy English book from the shelf and dumped it into the basket in his hand.

Thomas and Minho scowled.

Professor Janson, aka Rat Man, was one of the big wigs in the university. Not only was he a student counselor, but he was head of the English department and one of the faculty members constantly on Thomas's case. He'd been saved the discomfort of having Janson as his professor the last two semesters; he only had to deal with the man as a counselor. This year, however, he was unlucky.

"Ugh, don't remind me. I have him as my literature professor."

Newt's eyebrows shot into his hairline. Minho barked out a laugh.

"Oh man! That's some shitty luck you have there, Thomas!"

"Thanks," the brunet deadpanned.

Newt suddenly handed him the same English book he had picked up from the shelf. "I guess this means we're classmates, Tommy."