brooks & hale ✔️

hale

twenty three ;
h a l e

"OKAY, WHAT'S THE SHAPE of this molecule?"

Brooks pushed the textbook closer to Hale and tapped the question he was talking about. Hale stared at the diagram as if it would suddenly strike up some kind of familiarity, and he'd manage to see more than a bunch of lines and circles. Nope, he wasn't getting anything from this. Brooks was still looking at him expectantly so he pretended to inspect it a little longer.

"It looks like a cult symbol," Hale said finally.

Brooks sighed. "Funnily enough, that's not what the mark scheme says."

"Really?" Hale drummed his pencil against the coffee table with a thoughtful hum. "Well, they should consider changing it."

"Let's try another question," Brooks suggested, undeterred by Hale's absolute lack of understanding about what was going on. His optimistic hopefulness that he could get something into Hale's head hadn't wavered since the start of the tutoring, which was no mean feat.

Hale groaned and sprawled onto his back. "Let's not."

It was Wednesday, meaning Hale had already been tired from lacrosse practise before Brooks had begun scrambling his brain over chemistry. They were camped out in Hale's living room, seeing as his mum was cooking in the kitchen, and the twins were playing MarioKart loudly in the dining room. Every so often, Hale caught snippets of their conversation when they got particularly excited, along with accusations of "buttface" and "poophead" thrown in.

Ah, the days of PG-rated insults.

"Hale," Brooks said insistently, as if he'd been trying to get his attention a couple of times now. He waved a sheet of paper in his face as if that would revive him. "Focus. We have to - "

Hale turned his head to look up at Brooks when he abruptly broke off, and recognised that stricken expression on his face. Sure enough, Maxy had just padded into the living room, his tail wagging curiously as he regarded the two of them. He sniffed Hale's hand and gave it a couple of enthusiastic licks, an urge for more petting. Brooks was still watching Maxy with wide eyes as if waiting for him to pounce on him.

"You have a problem," Hale informed Brooks, rubbing Maxy's ears affectionately. He tried to lick Hale's face and settled for his arm when Hale pushed him back, not a fan of dog slobber on his face. "Scared of this ball of fluff?"

"A huge ball of fluff with huge teeth," Brooks said defensively.

"You know what? If you're going to be round at my place, we need to fix this irrational fear." Hale pushed himself up into a sitting position and raised an eyebrow at Brooks' wary expression. "I promise this won't involve any loss of limbs. Probably. Kidding," he grinned, when Brooks less than subtly scooted back towards the sofa.

Hale tugged Maxy closer by the collar and had him sit at his feet, knowing if he tried to get him any closer to Brooks he'd end up jumping out of the window. Brooks, that is, not Maxy. "You know," Brooks said nervously, "I don't think we need to do this. I don't think there's anything irrational about this. Maybe he looks innocent, but you have no idea what he's thinking. What if he's just imagining how great my arm would be as a chew toy?"

Hale snorted a laugh. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm realistic."

Hale grabbed his hand before he could protest any further, trying to ignore the warm tingles that shot down his fingers. Brooks hands were soft and smooth in comparison to Hale's, which were calloused from years of gripping a lacrosse stick. Brooks cheeks had gone pink, and Hale realised in his distraction he'd forgotten to actually do anything beyond hold his hand.