“Well before you accuse me of more misdeeds,” I say. “I want to say my piece. It doesn’t matter that I’m dating Professors Kamp and Mason because I’m not actually their student. I’m only auditing Astro 1.”
“What?!” Kristy shrieks, her eyes bugging out. “But you’ve been going to every class and doing all the homework assignments!”
“Maybe I forgot to tell you,” I continue calmly. “I dropped it at the beginning of the semester because a math class opened up that I needed the credit for. So I’m auditing Astro 1, and Professors Kamp and Mason have no power over my grades or GPA.
Kristy’s mouth open and closes a few times. Finally, it snaps shut.
“That doesn’t make a difference,” she spits. “Sex with two men is disgusting. You’re a cunt no matter what you claim.”
“Actually, it does matter,” Mike says. “Right, Dean Horton?”
The older man looks troubled.
“If what Miss Means is saying is true, and she is just auditing the class,” the Dean says, “then, yes, I imagine there’s no conflict.”
“Also,” I continue, now relishing the look on Kristy’s face, “I didn’t tell you this either, but I’m transferring schools. I just put in an application to Columbia. I want to study European History and they have an amazing department. I’ll probably hear back from them any day now, and I expect to get in, which only make your accusations totally pointless and inane.”
My former friend’s eyes bug open.
“Columbia? Why didn’t you tell me any of this?!” she whimpers. “What the hell? I thought we were best friends!”
I shrug. “Maybe I knew, deep down, that you really weren’t my friend after all.”
“Fuck you!” Kristy screams, her face red. “Fuck all of you! You’re all polyamorous amoral assholes! You just love those double-dick threesomes, don’t you, whore?! You like getting meat stuffed in your mouth? In your ass?”
“That’s enough!” the Dean says, looking sternly at Kristy. “NYU will not tolerate any kind of discrimination.” He looks back at me again, and then at Scott and Mike. Mike now stands with his arms around me from behind, and Scott firmly holds one of my hands. “Very well,” says the Dean, nodding his head. “I apologize for interrupting your evening, Professors Kamp and Mason. Carry on. Evidently your paramour will no longer be a student at NYU much longer, so I have no say over your private life.”
“No worries, Dave,” Scott says. “Just try to flag our waiter on the way out, will you? We’re really hoping to get some dessert.”
Kristy manages to shoot me one more venomous glare before stomping out in a huff, and after she and the Dean depart, Mike, Scott and I are left with the heavy silence. I look at my handsome men, barely breathing. Did that really just happen? Did we really evade disaster by the breadth of a hair? Judging from the relieved looks on their faces, we did, and my heart begins to beat again.
10
Violet
I was so excited about dessert. Now, every spoonful tastes like ash in my mouth.
When Kristy and the Dean left, the three of us didn’t say anything. What was there to say? After a moment, though, Mike and Scott made a joke to get me laughing and ordered our dessert. They sat me down, kissed my knuckles, and told me funny stories to get my mind off the scene that had just taken place. For a few minutes, I could pretend like everything was fine. Now though, the reality of the situation is dawning on me like a cold new day.
We could have lost everything. Everything. Because of the actions of someone I trusted, someone I loved like a sister.
One of these things alone--losing my relationship or being betrayed by my best friend--would have been bad enough. But both of them together burns like poison in my throat, all the way down to my stomach.
How could I have been so stupid? I should never have told anyone about my relationship with Mike and Scott, not even Kristy. I should have been more wary and careful. I should have considered that Mike’s and Scott’s jobs were on the line. Instead, I was selfish, thinking only of myself and what I wanted. I focused on my own pleasure instead of the possibility of pain.
What if I hadn’t been in the process of transferring schools? What if I hadn’t audited the class? What if the Dean told us we couldn’t see each other ever again, or fired Mike and Scott? What if… What if…
“Earth to Violet,” Mike says, waving his fork in front of my face. When I meet his deep blue gaze, he smiles, but then frowns as he watches my lips quiver.
“Violet…” he murmurs, and for some reason, that’s enough.
I collapse. I bury my head in my hands and hunch over as the tears begin to flow. I shake and shiver, sobbing until my throat begins to feel hoarse. Soon, I’m barely able to breathe, gasping for what little air I can gather between sobs.