Part X

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He needed to tell them, sooner rather than later, but what could he say to them? How to approach the subject? He was uncomfortable with talking about himself so personally, even with his boyfriends.

The migraine intensified with every step he took. He rubbed his temples in a futile attempt to assuage the pain. He was halfway back to the dorm when someone called his name.

Janson stood by the doorway of his classroom, eyes expectantly on Thomas. The brunet sagged. Of all the days to see the Lit Professor, it had to be on a day he was meant to be off.

"Thomas, glad I could catch you. If you would be so kind as to spare a few minutes of your time?"

"Actually I—"

"It's about your roommates." He added nonchalantly.

Thomas felt his heart stutter.

He followed Janson into the empty classroom, the doors clicking shut behind him.

"It's come to my attention that your studies have been... subpar."

Thomas tensed, the migraine pulsing like a jackhammer in his head.

"I've gotten high grades on all your assignments, Professor."

Janson scrolled to his desk, his movements slow and methodical. He dug into his suitcase and pulled out a pile of papers. He splayed them across the desk for Thomas to see, each assignment obnoxiously lengthy and stained with red ink. The papers bore his name on the upper right corner, his high grade written in the same bloody red ink despite the various commentaries and corrections littering the cover pages.

"I've had the pleasure of teaching you for two semesters now, Thomas. Your earlier works were impeccable." Janson licked his lips, blue eyes steady on the boy. "Yes, you have received the highest grade out of all my students, but your classmates are... shall we say... dumber than dirt." He shrugged, like insulting his students meant nothing to him. Thomas wouldn't be surprised if it didn't. "Unfortunately, this also stems to your roommates."

He tossed a series of packets onto the table, all of them ruined by his notorious red ink. They were worse off than Thomas'. Minho and Newt's name stared back at him from the sheets, their grades just as glaringly bright. He knew they tried hard in his class, but Rat Man's assignments were cruel and unfair to anyone who didn't have a knack for English.

The rush of anger came so unexpectedly, Thomas fell into a chair to keep him from growing dizzy. He rubbed his palms against his tired eyes, his migraine momentarily blinding him.

"Okay," He breathed. His muscles began to tremble. "What are you proposing Professor?"

"Your living arrangements concern me, Thomas. You've become... unwell since the semester started and then there are all these rumors..."

"Rumors?" He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

"It's of no concern of mine what your roommates do on their free time, but when my star pupil begins to hand in horrendous work, one has to wonder." Janson's blue eyes bore deep into Thomas. "Thomas, I understand college is stressful, especially for a prestigious school such as WCKD U., but if you continue to let carnal desires hinder you from work, I'll have no choice but to request a change of rooms with the head of housing."

Thomas bolted from his chair fast as lightning; his hands slammed down hard on the table, the loud bang reverberating off the walls.

"You can't do that!" He hissed through gritted teeth. "I have the highest grade in all of my classes. I've done nothing but pass everything you've given me with flying colors! Minho and Newt don't hinder me in any way, professor, in fact, I think I'm a lot better off living with them than last semester. What I do with my boyfriends is no one's business but mine!"

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