The Space Between Numbers

Variables and Unknowns

i really really really really want a chicken sandwich 😔

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Milo didn't usually dread Wednesday mornings, but today there was a heavy, electric pressure sitting under his ribs the second his alarm buzzed. Not panic exactly, but a tight-knuckled anticipation, the kind that made his heartbeat feel uneven, like it was skipping over the spaces between numbers.

He knew why.

Chemistry.
Third period.
Assigned partners.
Finn.

He'd barely said more than a handful of words to him yesterday, but that didn't stop Milo's brain from replaying every second of their interaction like it was important data. The way Finn's mismatched eyes seemed to notice everything. The way he carried himself relaxed but precise, like he lived in his skin more confidently than he should at sixteen.

Milo sighed into his pillow, counted the ceiling corners, then the corners of the window, then inhaled slowly until his lungs stopped hitting that painful, too-tight limit. He could do today. He could get through it.

He had to.

⸻

By the time he reached school, his stomach was a hollow, buzzing ache. Sadie spotted him at the doors, her hair braided on one side, the other side clipped back with a rainbow barrette she definitely stole from the children's section.

"Milo! Hey!" she chirped, falling into step with him. "How'd you sleep? You look like someone wrung you out."

He shrugged. "Just... thinking."

"About the chem partner thing?" Sadie asked knowingly.

Milo tried not to stiffen. "Maybe."

"You'll be fine," she said, bumping his shoulder lightly. "He seems quiet. You like quiet people."

Milo swallowed. "He's not that quiet."

Sadie grinned. "You noticed?"

Heat crawled up Milo's neck. "Not like that."

"Relax, I'm not teasing. I just—" She watched him for a moment. "You're weirdly wired today. Like, more than your usual emotionally-constipated level."

Milo huffed out half a laugh. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

They split off at the stairwell, Sadie giving him two thumbs-up and a ridiculous wink. Milo tried not to let his nerves leak through his expression but they clung to him anyway.

⸻

The bell rang for third period far too fast.

Milo slid into his seat, fingers tapping a soft, steady rhythm against his thigh. He didn't look at Finn until he heard the scrape of the chair beside him.

"Hey," Finn said, voice low, warm, and casual in a way that somehow made Milo ten times more tense. "Guess we're partners."

Milo stared at his notebook so he wouldn't accidentally stare at Finn. "Yeah."

Finn didn't seem to mind the awkwardness; he pulled his textbook closer, flipping to the lab page with fluid, practiced movements. The sleeves of his hoodie slid up just enough for Milo to see the lean definition of his forearm unexpected and distracting.

Nope. No staring.

Focus. Chemicals. Pages. Numbers.

"You good with measurements?" Finn asked.

"Yeah," Milo said too quickly. "Um—yeah. Very. Good with them. Really good. Precise."

Finn's lips twitched into a lopsided smile. "Good. I always overshoot."