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"Damn." Adam glared at his battered, mostly broken laptop.
Twenty-two minutes before the submission deadline for his Moral Philosophy paper, and his laptop was refusing to connect to the Internet. It wasn't like he didn't know he needed a new one; he'd known since the moment his older brother had handed him this one, fresh from Tom's four years of business major papers and presentations. Adam needed to write as many papers as Tom had, but Tom's choice of major came with parental blessing, whereas Adam had to suffer through his parents' scathing opinion of his choice of philosophy. A new laptop wouldn't be showing up under the tree at Christmas this year, that was for sure.
Nineteen minutes. Fuck. He poked fruitlessly at the mouse button, trying to make the cursor stay in one place. Tom had spilled something on it at his graduation party, and ever since, the cursor jumped all over the place.
He desperately needed a good grade in this class to make up for his Science of Philosophy class last semester. The professor had stood at the front and droned into his notes for every single class, and Adam had fallen asleep just like everyone else. He'd barely passed, and his GPA had suffered as an obvious result.
There was nothing else to be done; he'd have to hope his roommate wasn't planning on coming back to their dorm room in the next seventeen minutes, because Adam's only option at this point involved sneaking on to Josh's computer and sending his paper from there.
It wasn't like he and Josh didn't get along. They did, kind of, if getting along meant not fighting all the time. They didn't fight over the bathroom, and Josh didn't bring anyone back to the room for sex. Josh was just everything Adam wasn't: he'd had a letter jacket in high school, he rowed, he ran, he played baseball, and he went swimming every week.
Adam had hated gym class in high school. He hated team sports, and he hated swimming. When he'd first started high schoolbefore his growth spurthe'd been forced to take swim class, and all the guys had laughed at him in his regulation swim trunks. That alone would have been enough to make him want to avoid jocks and sports, but three weeks into freshman year, the seniors on the volleyball team had stuffed him and Thomas Michaels into adjoining lockers in the freshman hallway.
He had known from the first time he'd seen all of Josh's sports gear that he and Josh would have nothing in common. It could have been a whole lot worse, but even knowing that, he didn't know whether using Josh's computer was going to cause a fight or not. They didn't talk much.
He booted up Josh's computer, relieved by the fact he hadn't password protected it. Not being aware of basic computer security was kind of a dumbass move, but Adam was grateful for it now. The computer was in sleep mode, so it only took a moment for the screen to come back to life. He clicked on the open browser window on the taskbar and jammed his memory stick in the front of the machine.
Fourteen minutes. Come on, come on. If he submitted his paper late, that was an automatic deduction.