Midterm season is upon us, and tension is in the air. Academic tension. Existential session. Sexual tension. It’s like a triple espresso shot of panic, procrastination and pheromones. You can practically smell the cortisol mixing with Celsius and axe body spray in the KSL air. You’re tired, stressed, half-feral, and suddenly that person across the library looks like a Greek god just because they can draw a Fischer projection. You haven’t slept in 3 days, but you have developed a crush on whoever sits near the outlet in the library. Coincidence? No.

You’re not in love. That pulse you feel? It’s not attraction, it’s your body’s fight-or-flight response to you overdosing on stimulants. Those butterflies you feel? It’s the Celsius burning a hole through your stomach lining. But try telling that to your brain when you make accidental eye contact across the sea of whiteboards and your “heart” goes “you know what would be a good way to relieve this stress right now?”

Suddenly, every group session feels like foreplay. You’ve convinced yourself this is cosmic chemistry, but it’s actually just mutual academic decay. The library becomes a jungle of repressed desire and fleeting sanity. People whisper equations like sweet nothings. The printers moan. Somewhere, a couple gets it on in the single stall bathroom. Meanwhile, you’re wondering if your unwashed hoodie and dark eye bags make you look mysterious or medically concerning.

By fall break, the line between academic collaboration and deeply concerning decisions has fully dissolved. You’re playing emotional chicken with the person in your chem lab, and you’re not sure if you want to kiss them or compare reaction mechanisms. But beware, the moment exams end, so does the delusion. The same person who made your heart race under the flickering fluorescent lights will become just another sleep-deprived engineer who talks about the “moral ramifications of BLAH BLAH BLAH .”

So, if you’re feeling hot, bothered and academically doomed, take a breath. You don’t need romance, you need electrolytes. You don’t need a hookup, you need a nap. Because when it comes to midterm lust, the only thing you should be getting on your knees for is that curve, the only thing you should be scoring is above the mean and the only thing you should be pulling all-nighters for is your GPA.

And, if all else fails, just remember: love is temporary, but a D in organic chemistry is forever.