Aaron
The usually peaceful campus was a hive of activity. Apparently, many people had a lot of feelings about the Greek system. A spate of date rape reports had come out lately at Greek parties, along with hazing horror stories. I only had one opinion on it, and the fuss really seemed misplaced. Just eradicate the system, expel the asshole legacy frat boys who thought they ruled the world, and salt the earth where the building had sat, and in time, we would forget that we had once glorified such mediocrity and nepotism.
However, the university wasn’t looking to lose the money they wrung from these assholes’ parents, and was dragging their feet in punishing or even naming and shaming the guilty parties. Of course, everyone knew on campus, students talked, and in this day and age, it was easier than ever to get the truth out. However, it was equally easy to spread the wrong message. Right now, the university was sending the wrong message, but that was their funeral.
I strode past the tables set up in front of the library where students walked with picket signs and chanted something about fairness and justice. I was only grateful that as a grad student, Amy wasn’t interested in attending any events that might draw the slobbering losers who like to drug women instead of seducing or winning their hearts.
I pushed through the doors of the faculty building, noting the extra security presence. It made sense, considering the fog of tension that was clogging the air up today. The campus felt like a tinderbox, and every cry over the loudspeaker, a spark landing closer and closer. Of course, just to really ignite the situation, the dean had announced the disciplinary committee’s decision on the accused frat brothers’ futures today, like more fuel was needed for the fire.
I headed toward my office, putting the annoyance at the management’s incompetence out of my mind and focusing on more pleasurable things. Things like getting Amy alone. After yesterday’s near kiss, I had barely thought of anything else. Amy had dropped her hand, and flashed her cards. My longing wasn’t unrequited. She wanted me, and by god, she would have me. I was done waiting, now that I knew Amy’s feelings. Everything else, the details of our lives together, we could work out later.
I was surprised to find my office door unlocked, as I turned the handle and went inside. Amy jumped guiltily from the desk and whirled to look at me. I was perplexed, but pleasantly surprised to find her here already.
“Don’t tell me I’m late this time?” I wondered, though I knew I wasn’t. She shook her head. “You have a key?” I prompted. Her cheeks coloured, an adorable pink colour.
“I copied yours one day, just in case I needed it,” she said. “Are you angry?”
“No, why would I be?”
“Maybe you have things in here you don’t want me to see,” she suggested. I paused in the act of shrugging my coat off.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. You wouldn’t tell me if you did,” she muttered, turning away. I could feel her agitation from here.
“What’s going on, little one? Tell me,” I ordered her. I didn’t care that it sounded like a command, that was just who I was, and besides, Amy wouldn’t tell me for anything less than that. She was stubborn, and headstrong, and god, I loved her for it.
“Are you mad about the key?” she asked again. I shook my head as I approached her, slowly, like an animal I didn’t want to spook. I could feel her energy, it was flighty and electric. A whole storm of thoughts had been going on in her beautiful mind, and I could tell she was close to an edge.
“No. Copy whatever keys you want of mine, little one. Here,” I said, reaching into my pocket and taking out my phone and house key. I set them on the desk between us. “Copy my house key too, and my phone pass code is 0301. Look to your heart’s content.”
“0301. That’s my birthday,” she said quietly, looking pale. I’d decided overnight that it was time to bring this charade to an end. I nodded. She swallowed, her eyes flickering to the things on the desk and then back up to me.
“That’s quite the coincidence,” I said flatly. She narrowed her eyes at me. “Today, thanks to the mess outside, class is cancelled. If you could email my scheduled classes, that would be appreciated.”
I turned away by sheer effort of will and opened my laptop. Even though my eyes were far from her, I felt her presence, as she hesitantly went about her work. It was quiet, with only the occasional squeaking of a chair, or rustle of papers. I could live forever in days like this, quiet and contemplative, alone with Amy.
My office phone rang, jarring us both from the lull that had fallen over the office.
“Cole.”
“Hello Professor Cole. It seems we have a bit of an issue with the demonstration. Some of the other students, mostly fraternities, are counter-protesting the suspensions. They seem a little worked up about it.”
“Of course, they are. They want to make sure that this spat of rightful, yet weak actions against them aren’t encouraged. Add drink, mob mentality, and no doubt some illicit substances to it, and it will be an interesting afternoon on campus,” I muttered. The dean was silent a long moment, no doubt wondering how many of his faculty had seen the oncoming problems clear as day, while he had been blissfully ignorant, as per usual.
“Well, let’s hope that’s just an exaggeration. However, I have called the police. There’s been some vandalism at the library building,” he admitted.
“Really? It’s barely noon. I’d say we’ll be lucky to still have a campus by nightfall,” I muttered.
“Look–just take off, I suppose. Leave campus, classes are cancelled.”
“Are you worried about me, dean?” I asked him wryly. Turning to watch Amy, as she pretended not to listen. “Don’t worry. I can take care of myself.”
“I know. Well, see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow,” I said and hung up.
“What’s going on?” Amy asked, leaning against the desk.
“There’s going to be trouble on campus tonight, so it’s best if we get out of here,” I told her. She nodded and took her phone out of her pocket.
“Sure, ok. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said.
“Where are you going? We are going together.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m seeing you safely home, and it’s not up for discussion,” I said quietly, taking her coat from behind the door, and approaching her. She stared at me a long moment with narrowed her eyes.
“I don’t get you, you know. What am I to you?” she asked.
“I just told you that there’s trouble on campus. The library was already defaced.”
“So what? I’m just your student, and your TA. Why do you care if I get home safely?” Amy was staring at me with that challenging look, the one that was born of the tension between us, the uncertainty, the need to break the fragile barriers that demanded that we continue to play the game of student and teacher. She’d had enough, and so had I. I was in too deep to pull back now.
I stepped closer to her and caged her against the desk. Her eyes went wide as I put my hands on either side of her, and prevented her from moving, but she didn’t push me away.
“If you are looking for an answer other than basic common decency, I’ll give you one, Amy. Don’t ask if you’re not ready to hear it.”