𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞, ph.

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀𝐢. make it two.

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐢. —— make it two

— i —

"Please, Pick, this is the last time I'm asking you for anything," Porsche pleaded with his big eyes. Puppy eyes. Damn, he did look like a dog asking for a treat.

Pick slowly blinked, trying to keep his head upright. It was a little after eight in the morning and still way too early for Porsche's shit. Usually, he'd give Pick about two more hours before nagging because he knew that Pick was not a morning person and, frankly, before nine he was barely even a person to begin with. The weather already started to become hot and it didn't mean anything good, Pick was going to regret the black jeans because while he could take off the leather jacket, his professors probably wouldn't be delighted to see his underwear. The question was: how much did Pick care?

"This is the sixteenth time I hear those exact words this week and it's only Wednesday. I'm keeping a count," he answered eventually, words slow and drawled out. God, he was tired. The air conditioner was broken in Pick's dorm room and the heat made it almost impossible to fall asleep, not to mention the phone calls from his father who didn't or more likely didn't want to understand the concept of time zones.

"I... Is it really?" Porsche asked, falling to the bench on the other side of the table. He looked upset and Pick almost felt bad enough to agree to whatever Porsche wanted him to do this time. Almost. It's not that Porsche was manipulative, it's just that Pick sometimes thought he would literally die for Porsche if the boy asked for it and this was a pretty good indicator that Pick should work on his assertiveness when it came to his best friend. He didn't understand why the need to make Porsche happy was so big but it's been like that ever since they've met, sixteen years later Pick was pretty much used to it. He wouldn't do shit for anyone else so it balanced everything out in his opinion. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize that."

Pick sighed, resting his chin in a hand and closing his eyes. He was going to regret it; might as well add it to a never-ending list of embarrassing things he did for Porsche. "What is it about this time? If you say any word that starts with E and ends with mma, I'm going to have to deck you, so please do be careful."

Porsche opened his mouth like he wanted to say something but then he closed it and looked to the side, tapping his fingers against the table.

"I'm leaving," Pick decided, moving to stand up. But then his friend caught his wrist and it made Pick stay put.

"Please. It's... it's different, this time. She approached me first," the boy said, making Pick open his eyes wider. That was indeed different. "She asked if I could help her with a photography project but she said she's asking me because her friend wants you to help."

Pick frowned at that. "The shorty who always trails behind her with a camera?" he asked, trying to remember if he's seen N'Emma with anyone else when Porsche was following her around the campus and dragging Pick along.

"I guess so?"

"Mhm, so you do realize she didn't ask because she's interested, yeah? And you want to put yourself through this?" Pick looked at his best friend, raising an eyebrow. Porsche was a kind person and he wasn't dumb, Pick knew that, but sometimes this guy could be so oblivious. Emma didn't pay Porsche any attention since the beginning of the school year, why would it suddenly change now?

"Are you going to help me? She told me to come to their classroom today because they need to introduce us to their teacher," Porsche said, avoiding answering Pick's question.