Arson

Perhaps it was because his diesel engine mouth yakked on and on about basketball and politics and his idiot friends and he just. Didn't. Stop.

Maybe it was the way his touch burned you, and not in a nice way. It felt like dry ice shaped into fingers that fumbled around clumsily when you were in bed.

It could have been his face. Or...all of him. You remember how hot he was when you saw him first. All sweaty and absolutely gross.

Now you gotta find someone who burns less easily.

Well, there was this girl from the chemistry department...