Platypus

Chapter Eleven

Though he said he was going to bed on time, Fenton ended up spending half the night finishing up some drawings. He wondered if Lacey had remembered their promise. It was less of a promise, but more of an offhand comment, but Fenton took it seriously.

When he woke up the next morning, he sent the three drawings he had shown Albert off to get printed. It would take a few days to get framed and delivered. On one hand, he should've warned Lacey that he was having the art sent directly to her, but Fenton didn't know if he'd be home when they arrived.

"Hey, Albert, you up?" Fenton peeked in Albert's room.

The bed was made, but his desk was a mess. He hadn't returned by the time Fenton went to bed, but he also didn't mention having to go somewhere early in the morning. Fenton frowned. It wasn't unusual for one or both of them to crash at Rafi's place if it was way past midnight.

Fenton's phone began to vibrate. "Sorry, Professor Song. I'm heading out the door now."

"We're doing a mock exam today. Be sure to bring any tools you need," replied Caspian.

"I will!" Fenton's eyes went wide as he scanned the room. A calculator, right? And a pencil... He hadn't used a pencil in so long that he wasn't certain if he owned one.

"I'll see you soon then. Wear something warm."

Wear something warm? What did that mean? Was the exam somehow outside? "R-right!" Stuttered Fenton. He then hung up the phone.

Fenton hastily ran to the bathroom and put some of Albert's hair product in his hair, just to tame it a bit. He then snuck into Albert's room and opened a drawer, borrowing both a calculator and pencil box.

Everything was stuffed into his bag, which he then hooked on his shoulder. Though he knew better than to text and walk, he typed out a quick message while descending the stairs.

"Taking mock exam. Borrowed supplies. Back tonight. ♥"

Fenton slipped on the last few steps and had to grab onto the railing to prevent himself from cracking his face open on the cement floor. He steadied himself and put his phone back in his bag. ... Wet? Why was the floor at the entrance wet? Bobbing his head down low as a neighbor passed, he muttered hello and walked out the door.

Then he froze in place.

Snow? Now? It was getting to be late November, so it shouldn't surprise him, but... Fenton looked at the tram tracks in the middle of the street. They were covered in snow. Barely anyone was outside either, which meant that they had canceled public transport services for today.

Should he call Caspian to cancel? Fenton shook his head. No. That's why his professor had told him to dress warmly. There was no choice but to walk, no matter how long it took him. Plus, Fenton didn't want to make his professor worry about him.

Fenton could see it now. Caspian sitting on his couch with a cup of tea. A hint of worry passes across his perfect, chiseled features. Will his cutest student bother to show up today?

The thought of disappointing Caspian had Fenton's heart racing. He would do it. No matter how long it took, he would travel to his Caspian.

An hour and a half later, Fenton knocked on the door. There was ice bristling along his brow and scarf, and the ankles of his jeans were caked with snow. Every step was sluggish, every breath was agony. That didn't matter. He had made it.

Caspian opened the door and stood there. He was staring at Fenton with a blank expression and had a mug of tea in his hands.

"... Was the trolley that bad?" He finally asked.