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“We’ll still see each other,” Alex said. “Think of the trouble you’ll get into next year without your boring bookworm roomie hanging around.”
“I’ve got my internship coming up, so I won’t be around there much.” Ethan waved his hand dismissively. “Anyway, my senior year will be cake. Just need to flash these chompers at the cute TAs grading my papers. Worked like a charm for you, didn’t it?” He winked, eliciting a blush from Alex.
“You’ll find love too,” Alex said. “You certainly deserve it.”
Ethan looked away, his lips curving into a soft frown. “Ah, don’t worry about me.” His playful grin returned as he slung an arm around Alex’s shoulders. “I’ll swing any way the wind takes me. For now, it at least doubles my chances for a date on Saturday nights.”
Alex’s laughter died after seeing his friend’s strained expression. Travis, shoulders squared and seemingly searching for confrontation, approached.
“Now what?” Alex’s grip tightened around his diploma.
“Well, if it isn’t the Blue Ridge poster boy for special treatment,” Travis sneered, stopping in front of Alex. “I hope you can read that fancy diploma without your helpers.”
Alex bit the inside of his lip. Even standing in regalia, wearing his honor cords, Travis’s derogatory reference to his dyslexia cut him deeper than it should have. “I worked hard, Travis. No doubt you’ll graduate with honors too.”
“Maybe if I take a professor for a joy ride like you did.” Travis cocked his head provocatively.
Alex balled his fists, but then paused. “Actually Travis, I’ve been meaning to ask—where exactly did you get that photo of me and Julian?”
Travis’s smug expression faltered briefly. “What’s it to you?”
“It’s just that The Crimson Lantern is known as a gay-friendly bar.” Alex held his gaze steady. “Certainly something you’d know. I wondered if perhaps you were there that night, checking it out for yourself.”
Travis scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. I have my sources.”
“Maybe,” Alex said evenly. “Or maybe you were following us. Stalking isn’t a great look, even for you. But hey, if that’s the story you want to stick to, I get it.”
Travis’s face reddened. “I told you—I have my sources!”
“Okay,” Alex said gently. “Either way, if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here. I know what it’s like to feel alone and scared about this stuff. My offer stands, whenever you’re ready.”
“I don’t need your pity!” Travis exploded, his composure cracking.
Alex opened his mouth to respond, but a firm yet familiar hand gripped his shoulder and steadied him.
“Stand down, Mr. Spencer,” Julian said with an exasperated sigh. “Today is for celebrating academic achievements, not lobbing insults.”
Travis gave Julian a scornful scan. “Well, if it isn’t Professor Mattress himself.”
Julian’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
“Did I stutter?” Travis said, refocusing his verbal insults on his professor. “Don’t pretend you haven’t been… cultivating certain students. Why waste time on a dyslexic charity case unless you’re getting something in return?”
Julian’s jaw tightened, his face reddening. “You’re out of line, Mr. Spencer. Per my earlier suggestion—back off.”
Travis scoffed. “No worries, Professor. That little homo is all yours—”
“Travis Spencer.” The deep baritone from Dean Simmons made his presence known before he materialized behind Julian. “May I remind you this college has zero tolerance for hate speech.” When he crossed his arms, his wide navy- and burgundy-trimmed sleeves swished.
Alex let out a shaky breath, stepping out of the line of fire.
Travis’s sneer vanished, his face paling with shocked indignation. “Dean Simmons… I didn’t… I would never…” He adjusted the lapels of his blazer. “It was just a misunderstanding.”
“I heard the exchange, Mr. Spencer. Are you telling meImisunderstood?”
Travis’s mouth moved, but no sound came out.
Dean Simmons said to him, “My office. Now.”
