Sit with Callum

You decide to sit with Callum, which motivates him to pump his fist. Sabrina doesn’t seem bothered by this, either. She gives you a little wave as she wanders off across the classroom.

“Sports?” Callum says, crossing his arms and smiling. His muscles almost obnoxiously bulge beneath his thin shirt. You clear your throat. “Um, they put me on the fencing team, I think.”

Callum groans and pretends to slam his head on the desk. “No, dude. We gotta get you on lacrosse. You might not have the muscles, but…” He reaches over and squeezes your arm.

“I’ll fix that. Give me eight weeks. Call me sensei.” He folds his hands together and mock bows. Then he gives a dumb puppy smile. “The team calls me Golem. Because I’m big and hard.”

He flexes and then pat-pats his biceps. You decide not to mention that they might call him ‘Golem’ because he doesn’t have a brain. But admittedly, it’s sort of endearing. He’s harmless.

“Oh,” Callum says, looking down at the book on his desk. “We’re supposed to be talking about this thing.” Then he looks up at you and gives a stupid grin. “I didn’t read a single word, man.”

You need to pass this class, so that’s not good. But maybe you can catch up. Meanwhile, Callum reaches into his jeans and pulls out his phone. “Drop your digits. We’ll do gym sessions.”