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“Perfect, then I’ll...see you tonight.”
“Thanks, Pax,” he replies, saying my name again.
After hanging up, I rub my temple. It was supposed to be a quick hookup without attachments or feelings or names, but now I’m getting caught up on how good he looked at the front of the class today and how my name sounds rolling off his tongue. When he picks up his car, I’ll keep my cool, act like nothing happened, and make it through the rest of the semester that way too.
How hard could it be?
3
THOMAS
“You didn’t.” Everly gasps across the table from me.
I laugh around my bite of fettuccini. “I wish.”
“It’s only the first day! I strictly said no sleeping with the students.”
“Yeah well, whenhewas fuckingme,he was only my mechanic.”
“Oh, let’s come back to that,” she replies, noting how I mentioned the ‘fucking me’ part of that sentence. I really do tell Everly everything. “But what are you going to do now?”
“Sweetheart, there’s more.”
Her eyes widen, waiting for me to finish my sentence. “When I asked if I could pick up my car tonight, he informed me he has practice on campus until seven.”
She drops her fork and grabs my arm. “He’s on the rugby team.”
“Yep.”
“With Cullen.”
“Yep.”
“Oh that is hella complicated, Thomas,” she replies. “Who is it?”
I can’t help but wince, because there is a zero percent chance she doesn’t know exactly who it is. Cullen, Everly’s boyfriend, is now a senior at Florence U, and has been a star on the team for the past four years. He took a one-year hiatus after getting shot a few years back, but he’s been back at it since the start of his junior year. She is a devoted girlfriend and goes to every game and as many practices as she can.
As for the public status of their student-teacher relationship, the administration was apparently so desperate for journalism professors, they basically told them not to let anyone see them together, and they’d let their relationship slide without Ev losing her job.
“More importantly,” I say, “do you know of any openly gay players on the team?”
She wrinkles her nose. “No, but it’s not exactly my business. Or anyone’s for that matter.”
“I’m willing to bet this year’s salary that he’s in the closet.”
“Okay, but seriously. Who is it?”
“Pax?” I mutter quietly, remembering him on the phone, hearing him say his name for the first time. It all feels like such a mistake—the hookup, the being in my class, all of it. He never wanted me to know his name at all, but now I’m talking about his sexuality to a girlfriend of one of his teammates, which feels completely intrusive.
“Pax Smith?!”
“Shhh! Will you keep your voice down?” We’re sitting in the campus cafe, and although we’re far enough away from anyone hearing us, I still don’t need to draw any more attention to Pax or this conversation.
“The tall kid with the…” Her voice trails as she gestures to her face.
“Yes, the six-foot-five Greek God with the facial scars.”
She lets her gaze settle on me for a moment. “Really?”
