“...now you know how babies are instituted.” An earsplitting chime interrupted the lecture just as the professor parted his lips, breaking his train of thought. “We’ll continue these lectures tomorrow. Class dismissed.”
As dainty and soundless as possible, Maka Albarn pushed herself out of her seat and seamlessly gathered her notes inside her folder. To her right, an uncomfortable, cacophonous squeak erupted from an adolescent Soul’s chair as he mirrored Maka’s actions with sloppy gesticulations as he squashed his incomplete wad of crinkly notes into his backpack.
The girl waited for him to finish, forcefully holding back a cringe as she watched his behavior before walking ahead.
“Oy, Maka,” he called out.
“If it’s to copy my notes again, Soul, then forget it,” Maka interrupted. She whipped out a pocket medical dictionary from her bag and began to search the new terminologies she learned in their recent class.
“C’mon, Maka…” he whined, “you know I hate taking notes during class.”
With a swift glance at the corner of her eyes, she glared at him, “You seriously make it seem as if stupidity and laziness are genes.”
“But they’re not,” Soul replied cunningly.
Maka rolled her eyes. “Duh.” She resumed her task.
“Hey bookworm, at least I did learn something.”
“What?” she flipped a page, her gaze transfixed on the small texts.
Maka clamped her pocket dictionary silently, a vein throbbing on her left cranium, before raising it in the air and driving it into the boy’s snow haired locks.
“MAKA! ...THE HECK WAS THAT FOR?!”
“How many chromosomes are in a sex cell?”
“WOMAN! YOU’RE GONNA GIVE ME A BRAIN TUMOR!”
Maka brushed off the sentence, “One pair.” She crossed her arms over her chest as they continued walking to their next class before answering his former question “A good smack on the head one in a while will help you remember some things.”
“Geez, you’re one heck of a Spartan woman when it comes to these,” he muttered to himself.
“What was that Soul?” she smiled innocently, but a wincing eye brought upon an ominous aura.
“N-nothing,” he gulped.
“Let’s continue then.” A half second later, she asked, “What is in the center of a cell?”
“A place where chromosomes are made… the…” she raised the book, her patience running thin.
Soul instinctively covered his head, “Uh--Nucleus!”
“Good boy!” she praised, replacing the weapon with a gentle hand, ruffling his spiky locks. Soul slapped her hand away, flushed and irritated by her mercurial personality.
“Not cool, Maka. I hate it when you do that,” he growled whilst fixing his mangled hair. Fine, let’s do this your way, he thought. “You’re such a…” he wracked his mind, “a…phagocyte.”
“Phagocytosis,” Maka corrected proudly, “and YOU’RE more likely one of the cells of that form.”
“What?” He gave up fixing his hair.
The young genius sighed disappointedly. “This is why you look up the meaning before you even use it,” Maka replied.
“Get to the point,” he retorted impatiently.
“Cells that eat unwanted organisms dwelling inside your body. It’s like you’re gluttonous behavior towards food, you phagocyte.”
Soul grinned playfully, “Seems like my kind of career.”
“Whatever,” Maka scoffed as she dug into her bag, retrieving the notes from Dr. Stein’s class. “Study it. I’ll quiz you again tomorrow.”
Soul grinned to himself, victory gleamed in his eyes and smile as he took the papers. “Sure thing, teach.”