It might be breakfast if you've got studying to do. [ Meaning, he'll help with what he can, if Eames knows where to start. He holds out the bag for Eames, in case he wants one (or a handful, lets be real here). ]

I'm taking a break with all that.

[ Though he won't deny the food, reaching over to grab a couple few to keep in one hand while the other works to plop them into his mouth, one by one. ]

Should I bought asking how yours are doing?

Here's to another year of SparkNotes carrying my ass through English. [ He tips the bag like its a champagne flute, saluting the fine ladies and gentlemen of SparkNotes. Leisure reading to Yusuf isn't The Great Gatsby or Catcher in the Rye- no matter how well intended and "racy" its language is. He'd rather stick his nose in his chem book or loaf around on the internet. ]

You got lucky, you know. She's the only teacher that doesn't go into excessive detail because she still has faith in the youth with reading.

[ It's only a mild remark as Eames exchanges the floor for the edge of Yusuf's bed instead, resting his back. A strange thing to think about, Yusuf successfully completing his junior year, on to his last one in high school. Soon he'll be applying to universities, making new friends there, people who share his specific interests and stimulate him intellectually on a chemical level, something Eames can't even pretend to keep up with. ]

[ Yusuf would argue that so long as you know who the characters are in the story, you can largely bullshit your way through a term paper with enough talk of existentialism (his go-to reason for anything in any story..... ever) but he knows better. ] Sweet, but misplaced.

[ When the crinkling of his hand in the bag is louder than Eames' inevitable reply, Yusuf pops the puffed snack in his mouth and glances at the other. Eames is looking at the last cheeto in his hand like its important, and Yusuf is about to offer him the bag if it really makes him that depressed when something less associated with teenaged bravado and more related to brotherly camaraderie stops him. ]

You, [ Lacking the finess of someone who doesn't know Eames as well as Yusuf does, he nudges the other teen with his foot. ] Whats the face for? I've got my old sophomore final, if you need it.

[ Not that he should since he's been in this class twice... ]

[ Said cheeto is more like a cheeto log at this point, the two ends being snapped off from jumbling in the bag or Rhada laying on it, whichever may be the case. He pops it into his mouth before rolling onto his side, propping a head up on a hand as he stares at Yusuf's socks - clean for the most part except for a nudge of everyday house dirt on the left heel, cat hair dispersed thoroughly besides. ]

Have you thought about uni, yet?

[ Oh, University.

This is a conversation he usually has to endure with his parents, the both of them advising him on such and such's son awarded this grant or so and so's son accepted at such a young age and how they're so proud. Yusuf chews the cheese off his thumb, shrugging in a less respectful manner than he'd use with his parents. ]

Sure, kind of have to.