hey stretched together, arms over their heads with Milo holding Lee's phone in front of him as Tinder loaded. When at long last it was open, Lee relayed his email and suggested password, a little out of breath from doing lunges across the length of the windows overlooking the campus.

On the rubbery ground, Milo put his legs out in front of him and touched Lee's phone to the tops of his shoes, completely folded over his thighs. Lee could barely touch his shins without wanting to die. It was at this point that Milo asked, "Age?"

"Eighteen," Lee answered.

Milo put that in, muttering under his breath, "Male... Gender preference?"

"Men, eighteen to twenty-one," he said.

Milo leant back and spread his legs wide, borderline doing the splits. Lee rolled his eyes away to keep from staring as Milo put his forearms to the rubber mat, idly tapping away at Lee's profile. "Have you dated before?"

"Is that one of the questions?" Lee asked.

Milo shook his head. "Nah, just curious."

Lee shrugged and that was that.

"Is there anything specific you want in your bio? Otherwise I'll just make it plain and simple," Milo said.

"Literate sci-fi junkies only," Lee said with a grunt, reaching as far as he could so his fingers hooked on the edge of the mat. "Death becomes me."

"'Dead... inside... Please... open...'"

"I swear to God, Park," Lee snarled, trying to reach for the phone, but Milo held it out of his proximity. Thankfully, Milo erased the sexy, edgy Walking Dead reference in favor of the following sentence that Milo held out to get Lee's approval of:

"'Just a small-town boy looking for enlightenment, chocolate, and the next space opera,'" Lee read aloud. He hummed, genuinely impressed. "You've nailed the memes, the sweets, and the sci-fi. It works."

"Really?" Milo said, all but glowing. He checked his watch and said, "Okay, planks for two minutes."

"Planks?" Lee repeated. Milo stared at him, his phone slipping a little from Milo's hands.

"You don't... Christ, I really am surrounded by amateurs," Milo sighed, getting up onto his knees.

Lee laughed and said, "Yeah, no shit. What do you think I meant when I said I've never set foot in a gym?"

Planks, as it turned out, were invented by the Devil as a hellish torture device to bring mankind to their knees. Lee could barely make it through thirty seconds, and at the twenty second mark, he thought his soul had left his body, sucked into the unforgiving earth two floors below. Milo was on his elbows, back perfectly straight and legs even straighter. He had Lee's phone between his hands, checking the time on his watch, as he said, "So I'm looking through your photos."

"Jesus Christ," Lee cursed, arms shaking. He put his forehead to his fists where he had them clasped together in front of him.

"Your profile picture on Facebook is pretty okay... I'm gonna use that and then I've enlisted Rushil's help. He's sent me a screenshot he took of you on Snapchat." Milo held out the phone for Lee to see. Lee dropped his stomach onto the mat with a gasp, panting as he stared at the photo of himself. It was a profile view of him during the golden hour, the sunset making his eyes crystal clear and shining blue. He looked like a pale, pale Asian angel.

He swallowed hard and said, "Y-Yeah, sounds good."

Milo cropped out the caption he had had on the photo and stuck it onto Lee's profile. He pulled another from Facebook, and Lee, foregoing the next minute and a half of planks, came to watch from over Milo's shoulder. He watched as Milo saved a photo of Lee during a vacation he and his family took the previous summer for Lee's senior graduation present. They went hiking in the Alps in Switzerland, and the photo of choice was a full body shot of Lee in the sun with the snowy mountains as a backdrop.

Milo sifted through the three photos before saving the profile. "Great. So now we get to look at other peoples' profiles and decide if we like them or not."

"'We'?" Lee said. Milo seemed to realize the error there, and as he tensed, Lee took the chance to steal his phone back.

He sat crosslegged beside Milo, he craned over to watch as Lee went to the main screen of Tinder. It wasn't that he particularly wanted to, but he had to admit, he was a bit fascinated. The entire concept of rating humans and judging profiles evoked some dark, narcissistic part of him that urged him to begin looking.

Milo was explaining which way to swipe. Lee ixnayed the first guy, which brought a new face to the screen that stopped Lee in his tracks.

Milo scrambled up with a gasp. Lee jumped at the sound, his hand stilled over a very familiar face and a very new sense of dismay. Beneath his thumb, at the whim of Lee's mood, was Roland Ball.

"Swipe left!" Milo cried.

"Does that mean I don't like him?" Lee squeaked. Milo paused the timer on his watch before reaching over to do it for Lee, who yanked his phone out of Milo's reach.

Milo stared at him and, likewise, Lee stared back. He was shocked that he was suddenly so defensive of Roland Ball's profile. Roland Ball, yet another famous face on campus. He didn't realize that Roland was bi, or even gay, but alas, there they were on opposite sides of Tinder.

Milo still had his hand out, almost threateningly. "Don't—" Milo started.

Lee rolled away from him to read the profile in peace. He stiff-armed Milo when he tried to stop Lee from reading.

"'Roland, 21. Fun loving dork with a penchant for playing ball (of the football variety). Ask me about my tattoo,'" he read aloud. He turned back to Milo, who was on his hands and knees behind Lee. Lee's hand was a few inches from his face, so Lee dropped his hand to see Milo's expression of pure shock. "He has a tattoo?"

"Please left swipe him, I beg you," Milo said. He clasped his hands together like he was praying.

Lee looked back at Roland's smiley face on the profile. It looked like a professional photo, taken of him as he was laughing with those cheeky dimples bracketing his smile. His skin was incredibly tan in the photo, so Lee had to assume that it was taken just last summer.

He right-swiped Roland.

The screen went dark and Lee's profile picture popped up next to Roland's. "It's a match!"

"What does that mean?" Lee said, holding it up to Milo.

Milo was inexplicably wordless for a hot second. After a few seconds, he sat back on his heels and rubbed the back of his hand, more confused than anything. "He already...? That—That just means he swiped right on you, too."

Lee pointed a finger to his chest and said, "He liked my profile?"

Milo nodded, brow furrowed.

"So now what?"

"Now you can... message him, I guess?" Milo said, slowly. He came to sit beside Lee as Lee opened up his DMs with thee Roland Ball.

17:23 Inquiring about your tattoo.

17:23 Image attachment

It was a photo of Roland pulling his shirt up and revealing a very defined six-pack of caramel, toned skin. Lee bit his thumbnail to keep from chewing his lip to an early grave. He let out a laugh when he found the tattoo at Roland's left hip—a colored, pixel tattoo of good old fashioned Super Mario.

"Wait a minute," Milo said, leaning over. His shoulder pressed up against Lee's as he squinted at the photo and pointed to the glimpse of a background behind Roland. "He's... He's upstairs! Oh, I'm going to kick his nuts!"

Milo was on his feet and running before Lee could stop him. Frantic, Lee pushed himself up and realized that there was no way in hell that he'd beat the Hunter running back to Roland, so his thumbs flew across the keyboard in a panic.

17:24 PARK IS ON HIS WAY TO KICK YOUR DICK

17:25 O shit are you serious

17:25 T-2 seconds

17:25 Fuck rain check du-a-a;kgjalk;jgalkjagasdgh

Lee jogged up the stairs, legs hot and sore already from stretches—who got sore from stretches, anyway? Evidently him—and emerged at the third floor where he scanned the track in search of Roland and Milo. When he did find them, Milo had Roland on the ground, his ass on Roland's chest, and tickling him ruthlessly under the armpits.

Roland was howling with laughter. He screamed for Milo to stop, trying to buck him off, but it was all to no avail. Milo's monstrous thighs had him trapped. When Lee jogged up, he felt like someone had dragged his corpse out of the grave. He slumped, gasping for air, and said, "Guys, come on, you're causing a scene."

Some runners on the track arced around them and continued on, looking back in amusement as Milo screamed at Roland, "THIS IS WHAT YOU GET!"

"F-Fuck! Sh-Shit, oh my God," Roland gasped, tears at the corners of his eyes. At last, he grabbed Milo by the wrists and forced him to an abrupt halt. He flung Milo off of him and, on one knee, held Milo still. Milo looked like a cat getting ready to pounce again. Roland let out a shuddering breath and said, "Okay! Okay, are we done? Did you get it out of your system?"

"No," Milo snarled, trying to shake himself out of Roland's grasp. Roland retaliated by getting up and, in one fluid motion, stepping behind Milo. He crossed Milo's arms in front of him and heaved Milo up, kicking and shrieking, from the ground. Lee stepped back to avoid being kicked in the balls.

Milo yelped as Roland swung them back and forth before at last coming to a stop, facing Lee. Roland grinned at him from over Milo's head. Milo was scowling furiously like some grumpy cat caught in a less than desirable predicament.

"So I hear you're an excellent kissing partner," Roland said with a wink.

All of the heat in the universe collided in Lee's face and threatened to burst. Meanwhile, Milo threw his head back and screamed, "ROLAND!"

"What're you doing Thursday night?" Roland asked as Milo thrashed wildly in his grasp. At this rate, Lee wouldn't be surprised to hear on the news that somehow, the star running back had sprained his wrist. "There's a party as Sigma that night."

"Y-Yeah, I heard," Lee squeaked.

"Do you have a date for the party?" Roland went on to ask. Using Milo's own hand, he muffled Milo's mouth where he was slurring obscenities and calling attention from all corners of the third floor.

Lee laughed, unable to hide his smile as he shook his head. "No, not really," he said. He looked at Milo, whose eyes widened in his direction. Lee put his hands on his hips, leaning his weight to one hip as he said, "Why, are you asking me something, Ball?"

Roland grinned and said, "Maybe I am. You in?"

Lee nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm in."

Roland's slanted, cocky smile brought a cheeky grin to Lee's face. Roland nodded and said, "That settles it, then. What do you drink? Malibu?"

"According to Park, yeah, I drink Malibu."

"Sweet, I'll pick some up. Class in the morning?"

"Work, but I can call in sick."

"I advise that you call off now," Roland said. Lee laughed and said he would. Satisfied, Roland let go of the now stunned Milo. Milo staggered to his feet, stuck staring at Lee as Roland waved his phone in the air for Lee to see. A silent suggestion to text him if need be.

With that, Roland clapped Milo on the shoulder and said, "See you later, dude," before continuing his run around the track.

Milo swayed under the force of Roland's slap. He rubbed his shoulder and glowered at Roland's back. Lee's insides felt jittery from the thrill of talking to Roland Ball. Last Year Lee would be fangirling on the floor right about now.