Her long blonde hair draped her smug face, and Rus contemplated yanking a strand if only to twist that hateful gaze into shock.
“Dating around isn’t a relationship, even if you use some sad gay label to say otherwise.”
“No one asked you,” Rus snarled in a breathy whisper.
“In fact, dating two men is sort of proof there’s nothing serious about yourromance,” Emma said with this condescending giggle. “This is why gays are terrible for the world. They mock tradition, they take nothing seriously, they spit on sacred values, and then they gloat about it in public to rub it in everyone’s faces.”
“There’s no gloating,” Rus replied, biting back a thousand cutting words he sought to add.
“Yeah, we’re having a private conversation.” Daysha pointed to herself and Rus. “You’re the nosy bitch, quite literally, forcing your way into our conversation.”
“Because you’re loudly talking about immoral and disgusting things when we should be focused on our research projects.”
“And what are you even going to research on?” Daysha asked in a loud, furious hush. “You hate all BIPOC representation, you adamantly believe queers of history are lies and propaganda to disparage the dead, you think every woman’s achievement in history is used to silence the ‘real’ male accomplishment. So, what the fuck are you even researching?”
She summed up every thought Rus had. It still irked him to no end that Emma took this elective purely to incite discourse in the class.
“I’ll be doing a counter essay on the real hidden figures of history,” Emma boldly stated. “The white Christians who are slowly being erased from textbooks because of DEI history initiatives.”
“You seriously don’t even give a fuck if you fail this class, do you?” Rus asked, truly astounded.
“I’ve actually already started writing out my appeal if the professor unfairly demonstrates biased bigotry against me for my political and religious rights.” Emma primmed her shiny, blonde hair, practically posing with pride. “Honestly, if you’re going to just date around, you should—”
“Why would I even listen to you?” Rus asked, having a sudden realization about his most irritating, unwanted nemesis. “You’re a woman. And by your very hateful definition of women—which you constantly voice, loudly at that—they shouldn’t have opinions. So, why the fuck would I listen to a goddamn thing that comes out of your trashy cherry-picking Christian mouth?”
Emma glowered, her face scrunching into something methodical and likely intending to argue her way around her very own stupid logic.
“I’m just surprised you’re not more ashamed of yourself,” Daysha cut in. “You’re like twenty-two, college educated, unmarried and single, career-driven, and quite opinionated.”
Daysha counted off each achievement on her fingers, hurling them like insults. Then she made a nasty face, utter repulsion in her eyes.
“Jesus must be so disappointed in you.”
“Wait, career-driven?” Rus asked somewhat sarcastically. “I thought her whole trad wife sales pitch fizzled out when her followers learned she was a sad, single college girl and not a 1950s homemaker?”
“Oh, it did, but grifters always find a scam.”
Rus nodded, playfully agreeing.
“Now she mostly does Lives with red pill podcasters, arguing about the ‘woke’ mob and bragging on how she’s surviving her liberal indoctrination.”
“And not one of those proud good ole boys wants to make you an honest woman?” Rus asked with a sassy twang to his voice. “Pretty pathetic if you ask me.”
“No one fucking asked you!” Emma blurted, caught off guard by her own rage.
Rus slid down in his seat, snickering at Emma’s outburst. He did his best not to look at Daysha, who followed suit, and they both kept their eyes locked on the whiteboard as their professor turned his attention to their area.
Emma stormed out before the professor even attempted to understand the situation.
Daysha and Rus stayed silent for the longest minute of their life, waiting for their professor’s ire to lessen.
“Also, I should mention,” Rus leaned over, whispering, “we have our first date night planned.”
“Exciting, but how’s that work logistics-wise?”
“We all show up, eat food, chat, go to a movie, then—”
“Absolutely not,” Daysha interrupted. “Movie first, so you can avoid bathroom breaks from your full belly meal, and also, it’ll give you something to chat about.”
