The temperature of the sun varies from around 15 million degrees Celsius at the core to only about 5,500 degrees C at the surface.

By all means, Bahar Bin Bader should've burned the moment the sun walked Into the grey-walled classroom. He squinted. The sun's scratchy voice echoed all around the room as she excused herself for being late– she set up her alarm as five pm instead of five am. She laughed, and the other classmates brushed her off in annoyance.

She must have been a freshman, Bahar thought. 

Ironically, the sun wore a white graphic t-shirt with a sun centering it, showing off freckled arms and a detailed floral tattoo on her left forearm. She wore an orange leather skirt that reflected the light sharply over striped orange and white stockings. The colors of her wardrobe matched her fire-red hair as it cascaded into curls over her shoulders. The shirt, skirt, and stocking hugged her plump figure tightly, and Bahar looked away the moment his mind registered the detail, throat growing dry as he read the date he wrote into his notebook over and over again. 

“ Do you have an extra pen?” The Sun whispered as she sat next to him, “ I'm sorry, I came here in a rush.” 

Bahar nodded jerkily and handed her one realizing a moment too late that he handed her a pen with the top chewed on, but he couldn't find the voice to say something.

“Thanks!” The sun said with a wide grin, her freckles, like sunspots, framed her soft cheeks, “ Your name?” 

“ B-Bahar,” he stumbled over his name, “ Bahar Bin Bader.”

“ Nice to meet you!” She tried to shake his hand, but he pulled his hands close to his chest.

Immediately, The sun swished her hand around her, playing off the awkward handshake as a clumsy twirl as she stood up and then sat down again, giggling. 

Bahar couldn't help but smile. 

“ It's Kamillia by the way,” she said after a moment, “ Kamillia Kiselyov.”

By four in the evening, Bahar had finished his classes for the day. He was supposed to return home, but instead, he decided to order a small sandwich and sit at a table in the university's food court. 

Every month, he took a portion of his disability aid and kept it on his person. Usually, Ummi managed the money. She said he was too occupied with his mind to be able to manage his finances. The money kept a roof over their heads, put warm food on the table, and supplied Ummi's nicotine addiction.

When Bahar turned eighteen, his little sister, Yasminah, stole some of the money and got him a chocolate birthday cake from the convenience store. 

‘ Stealing is haram,’ Bahar had told her then, ‘ Ummi will be angry.’ 

‘ Then let her.’ Yasmimah said unbothered as she lit up the candle with Ummi’s lighter. 

Ummi didn't notice the dent in the money, and Bahar experimented– if he took a little bit more every month, only a little bit, so little Ummi wouldn't notice, it'd be alright. 

Most of what he took was stashed away under the floorboards of his old high school, only rarely did he personally use any of it.

Bahar usually ate in small calculated bites. His eating pace was slow, and it often frustrated Ummi. Even though she wasn’t around at the moment, the thought of where his disability aid was spent made him take bigger bites that felt like chewing on rubber. 

The terrible texture wasn't enough to drive him home. He didn't want to go home, even the thought of Yasminah staying there with Ummi didn't push him. 

He was tired, and he would sit in the food court and eat the sandwich even if it killed him.

“ Bahar!” a voice exclaimed behind him and he jolted as he turned to face none other than Kamillia. 

“ Sorry!” She cringed, “ Did I scare you?”

Bahar shook his head, roughly rubbed off humus from the side of his mouth, and stood up awkwardly. The chair squeaked, and he ended up standing a little too close to her, his chest nearly touching hers.

He fumbled as he stepped back, bumping Into the table and spilling his drink on the floor. 

He quietly watched it spill in defeat before looking back at Kamillia, “ I can't support my claim. “

She blinked at him, big round green eyes and pouty lips, before she broke into a short loud laugh, doubling over.

Bahar's hands tapped on the table behind him. Then, he rushed to pick up the drink and wipe off the spilled liquid, furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to ignore the wetness of the tissue. 

Soon, another pair of hands joined him. Kamillia held an old rug he recognized from the janitor's cleaning cart and wiped off the liquid more efficiently. 

“ I'm sorry. I wasn't laughing at you, you know, I thought you made a joke…” Kamillia said, looking away, a hint of nervousness, “ Was it a joke?” 

Bahar thought back on what he'd said then shook his head, “  I don't mind that it made you laugh.” 

She smiled, bright and cherry, and said, “ You know, for a quiet guy you're quite funny.” 

He blushed and decided to focus on the task at hand.  

“You're also hard to track down.” 

That made him pause. He looked up at her in curiosity, and she took out a pen, his pen, from her orange fanny pack. She handed it over, and he noticed a shimmery sticker of a Tooth wearing sunglasses wrapped around it.

“ This isn't mine,” he said, “ The sticker.”

“ Oh! That's mine!” Kamillia said, “  You can take it off, or keep it… I just thought it's a funny drawing and it would make you laugh.”

Bahar stared blankly at the sticker. 

Then, Kamillia's phone played a loud death metal song and she shrieked. She took it out and stared at it, before turning the phone towards him. 

It was an alarm set for five pm that read:

‘GOOD MORNING ITS TIME TO HUSTLE’

They both ended up laughing loudly, grabbing the attention of students and staff, uncaring of whatever occurred around them.

When Bahar finally returned home that day, Ummi was crying as she pestered him for abandoning her, but he looked down, thumb tracing the sticker on his pen.