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FART
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You have to fart.

It's almost there—excruciatingly bubbling on the inside of your butthole, just waiting to ripple out in what you think is going to be a nasty, loud, and powerful phurrrt.

The dead silence in the classroom does not aid your dilemma. At all.

You're in the middle of a math quiz, a pop quiz to be exact, and people are focused. You would be too, if you didn't need to fart, that is. You scan the room in search for something to use as a distraction, but alas, there's nothing. Last time, approximately three years ago, you had tried to divert attention from your fart by coughing.

Instead, you coughed, drew attention to yourself, and then farted.

With that incident resurfacing in your head, you decide to approach things differently. It's not foolproof, but you're running out of options and trying to spread your buttcheeks by shifting your weight on the seat seems like the best idea.

It'll open up the hole, hopefully making your gas pass silently, and in a manner that will not attract anyone's attention to yourself. Scooting to the end of the seat, you position your buttcheeks accordingly and ready yourself to let out The One.

It's loud.

Oh no, it's not just loud—it's moist.

However, it's also not yours.

Almost everyone's attention goes to the real culprit of the noise in the seat behind you, the usually quiet guy who rarely speaks a word other than when necessary:

Min Yoongi.

You don't talk to him much. In fact, you don't talk to him at all. It's quite astonishing, given that he's in all of your classes this semester. But then again, he's not the social type, unlike you.

"Sorry," he mumbles, resuming work on the quiz.

Everyone lets out a chuckle, some covering their mouth with their hand, in shock of what just happened.

So when you ripple out your own fart right after—somehow even louder and juicier than his—no one even suspects it's you. The last of it sounds like popcorn popping its last few kernels.

"Dude! Seriously?"

"Again?!"

"Students," the teacher calls from the corner of the class, "Is there something going on?"

You and Yoongi's side of the classroom starts to smell like rotten egg and you silently curse your mother for feeding you the spiciest fucking dinner course you've ever had last night.

But you're not panicking nearly as much as Yoongi, the usually aloof boy now flustered a ruddy red.

"W-wait... that one wasn't me, I swear."

That's probably the most you've ever heard out of him.

You pretend to be ignorant of everything, looking awfully focused on the rationals in front of you despite not knowing how to simplify them whatsoever. In addition(Hah, get it? Addition?), you and Yoongi are the only ones in that corner of the classroom, so it's either you or him.

Maybe a few years ago, at your old school, you would've owned up to it. No—you definitely would have. You were more honest than you are now, but also a sore loser. The memories of being relentlessly teased, mocked, and made fun of fill your mind along with the fear of being caught for farting.

It was only after a summer glow up and a change of schools that you were able to fully make friends and enjoy highschool. Ever since you moved to this school a year ago, you vowed to not be the person you were at your old school, because you still don't know how to stand up for yourself if something happens, and you sure as heck aren't willing to if it's avoidable.

So that's why you silently pray that he won't call you out.

"She farted!" He points to the back of your head. "Not me!"

"What? He was the one who farted!" you counter shakily, swinging around to point back at him.

"Stop lying," he says, rolling his eyes.

"I'm not," is your meek defense.

Technically, it's not a lie. He did actually fart. You're just not going to admit to doing the same thing yourself.

Some snickers echo from the side of the classroom and you can only hope that this doesn't ruin your reputation. This event cannot—will not—get in the way of your pristine status. It sounds cocky, but you won't deny it; you're well liked. With your now clear skin, polished makeup skills, and much better sense in style, people like you. A lot more than before, at least, and you want to keep it that way.

You sigh, noticing Yoongi giving you a furious glare, and understandably so. His finger is still in the air with aggression, pointing to you like he's Detective Conan calling out the main suspect of a robbery.

"Yeah..." someone mumbles in the back, "There's no way that Y/N farted."

"She's too pretty for that."

"Being pretty does not mean that your butthole does not work!" Yoongi screeches. Well, it's more of a 30% yell, but for Yoongi standards, it's a screech.

Right now, he can't prove that you farted, and vice versa. But if he somehow manages to get people to believe him, then that's it for you. You'll get those mean messages again, but this time it'll be even worse. Instead of "Y/N doesn't know how to wash her face," you'll get "Y/N is actually a disgusting person who farts!"

Yes, sure, farting is a natural thing, but the back of your mind won't stop creating the worst scenarios.

"Well, Yoongi, it's okay to fart, you know?" The words you scramble together come out through your closed throat. "It's natural. It's okay to admit it."

You're a genius, and you hate it. This is so mean but you care about your reputation too much for you to stop. There is truth in your words, though; it's just a fart. You're being insanely hypocritical.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he mutters under his breath, bringing a hand up to his pitch black locks and squinting his equally dark eyes in disbelief.

Your friend, April, waves to you from the other side of the classroom, shrugging her shoulders up and furrowing her brows as if to ask: what happened?

Nodding and pursing your lips sheepishly, you watch as she gives you a keen look. She'll definitely ask about this later. She is, after all, your best friend and probably the only person you can confide to about things like this.

"You two are disrupting the class." The teacher steps out of her seat and walks toward you. "Would you like to explain what exactly happened?"

As she approaches you, Yoongi starts talking, without a single care for the judgemental eyes in the class. On the other hand, you're completely frozen under the gaze of your peers. Do they think you're weird?

"Y/N," he starts, not even trying to hide the resentment in his voice, "Is a freaking liar. She's trying to frame me for something I didn't do!"

"But you did fart." Your sassy quip is responded to with another eye roll. "I'm not a liar."

"Well, if you guys could settle this outside of class then—"

"If you're not a liar, then will you admit that you farted?" He leans forward tauntingly, closing the space between you and him.

You don't respond.

Since when did he get so talkative? You can't believe that these are the first words you've ever heard from Min Yoongi. "Yeah, that's what I thought. I did fart, but she did too, and she keeps trying to blame me for it— "

"NO!" Your abrupt yell sends you into a state of immediate regret, but you don't back down from your stance. People in the class are invested in this conversation now, so you can't mess it up. "Uh, I think that we can just move on?"

"See?" he says wildly, "She won't admit to it!"

The teacher sighs, rubbing her temples and motioning to the class to continue working on the math quiz. Only a few do, though most simply tune into the conversation without facial expressions.

"You two are being strangely disrespectful. Yoongi, you're never this... loud," she says, though loud would be an overstatement. Even though he's angry, he keeps his volume level, only showing emotion in the small inflections of his voice. "And Y/N, you're one of my most diligent students. I don't appreciate it when two of my good students get into petty arguments."

"Sorry," you apologize. It is pretty stupid.

Yoongi, much more characteristically than he has been these past five minutes, remains silent.

Your teacher crosses her arms. "I'm sending you two to detention."

»»————-　Author's Note　————-««

♡

yes. i have published another story. ika i give u permission to shave my eyebrows. this one has been sizzling in the drafts for too long. anyways... thank you so much for reading! i love u all so much hearts

<3 adoremei-