Oh oh oh oh, it's hexagonal love!

Angsty Clarice never could make up her mind. So when she finds herself pursued by 5 different boys, which one will she choose?

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4. The Mountains of Devotion

It was time for Clarice’s favorite class of the day, geometry.  Still proud of romantic successes of that day, she strutted into the classroom rocking the A7X hoodie that Uriah had just given her; combined with her brand-new feathered leg warmers, it gave her the “totally original” look she had always wanted.  But she stopped cold in her tracks when she stepped into class, for she had just walked in on the morning caber tossing practice.  Caber tossing was a sport in which Scottish men threw logs for distance, but since the school had a non-discriminatory policy, students of any nationality were welcome to join.

Clarice’s eye was immediately drawn to the center of the room, where a shirtless young lad named Brahmagupta was hefting a log over his shoulder as he prepared to throw it.  An exotic ladies’ man, Brahmagupta’s tanned back muscles bunched as he lifted the heavy log, making love-struck Clarice self-conscious of her appearance.  She had the sudden urge to dress in a kilt and serenade Brahmagupta on the bagpipes, playing him the sultry tunes of the people whose manliness he was emulating with quite some success.

But a more pressing problem was at hand.  Brahmagupta’s technique was way off, and Clarice felt the moral obligation to fix it.  She gingerly approached him, inhaling the aromatic motley that enveloped him; his sweat smelled like sugary strawberries, while his shampoo held the scent of freshly made grilled cheese sandwiches.

“Brahmagupta!”  Clarice shouted over the thumping bass of the Alanis Morisette playlist that was blasting from every corner of the room.

Brahmagupta paused the music.  “What?!?” he screamed back, punctuating his shriek with gravelly grunts akin to those emitted by Serena Williams on the tennis court.

Clarice lowered her voice a bit.  “I noticed that you’re throwing the caber wrong.  Would you like some help?”  She flipped her hair, hoping to seduce him into accepting her offer.  Apparently it worked, because Brahmagupta nodded, and with a primitive howl, he hurled the log at Clarice with alarming ferocity.

Several minutes later, Brahmagupta was throwing the caber correctly, and Clarice also smelled like grilled cheese, a remnant of the passionate exchange that had just taken place between them.  She sat down at her desk, ready at last to begin class.

However, Clarice had missed class by that point.  Dejected and distraught, she turned to Brahmagupta for comforting, but he had disappeared, riding his log into the supply cupboard much like E.T. had ridden his bike.  Driven insane by her mix of emotions, Clarice let out a scream of bloodthirsty fury and thundered off to lunch.

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