He has never turned off a screen more quickly in his life.

...yeah, it didn't help, did it.

"...re...search...?" he ventures, hopefully, and then wonders why the hell he thought that would be a good thing to say.

“…do you happen to have a paragraph for me?”

Wow, this interaction somehow got worse.

"Nosir."

“…please see me after class.”

He makes his way back to the front of the room.

Not now, boner.

He waits at his desk, when the bell rings and the rest of the class files out.

Camillo shuffles over, clutching his book bag in front of him.

…he sighs.

“I’m going to put this all down to a very bad day.”

"It has been a hell of a day," he says, and then, more appropriately, "thank you, Mr. Teegarden."

“You’re quite welcome. —I do have to stress that you absolutely cannot watch pornography in class.”

"It won't," he begins, and then realizes with a painful clarity that it absolutely will happen again, and finishes lamely, "...be ... a thing ... you see... again."

“I’ll hold you to it.”

“…if there’s something happening in your life, and you need to talk to someone, you know where to find me. I know it’s not ideal, but — know it’s there if you need it.”

He has a moment of desperate, beautiful hope. He could tell an adult. He could do the responsible thing with his phenomenal cosmic power. He could not be a supervillain.

...except that Mr. Teegarden isn't Z, and isn't going to take his word on this. So until he can figure out some way to prove things ... no dice.

"Thank you," he says, and flees to lunch.

Z is waiting in their usual spot, looking vaguely self-satisfied. He waves him over.

"My life has gotten so stressful. Hi," he says, sliding in.

“—ooh. New book stuff?”

"Not even. Mr. Teegarden kept me after class. You look like the cat who ate the canary."

“What even happened? — guess you probably need this extra now. Sorry.”

He digs in his backpack for a second, and produces a truly enormous chocolate bar, only a little scuffed and lead-marked by its time living in a backpack.

"...aww, hey, what's this all about?"

“You had a panic attack about being Spiderman, like, an hour ago. It’s emergency chocolate time.”

"I would literally die for you, you know that?"

“See, that’s the kinda thing we’re trying to avoid.”

He unwraps the chocolate and proffers a piece.

He's not about to turn down chocolate.

"Want to help me revise the universe?"

“You know it.”