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Which of course made him feel more pathetic, because what man of his age panicked over a fucking college class?
“I’m not a freshman,” the guy said with a chuckle. “I also recommend not sitting in the front row. Some people like the attention, but you look like you won’t enjoy being constantly called on.” The guy went about flicking on all the light switches, and Dmitri winced at the sharp brightness as he selected one of the long tables, taking the chair against the far wall.
“Is this guy a jerk or something?” Dmitri asked.
“Debatable. I think all professors here have mixed reviews. Did you check the message board online?”
Dmitri blinked at him. “I didn’t realize you could do that. I’m sure my fucking ignorance is showing now.”
The guy laughed again and shook his head. “It’s fine, trust me. You don’t need to panic. It’s just school.”
It’s just schoolwasn’t much of a help though, and Dmitri fought the urge to take out all his supplies just to give himself something to do, but he didn’t want to look like an epic nerd before anyone else arrived. “I just didn’t think I’d be doing this college thing, like, ever. But I got this new job and…I have to. And I’m rambling.”
The guy smiled as he set his messenger bag on the front table and began to pull out a stack of books. “What’s your name?”
“Uh. Dmitri. Williams,” he added, then hated himself because who the fuck gave out their last name to random classmates?
“You can call me Rian. Unless you have a thing with authority, but I really hope you don’t because I hate that shit.”
Dmitri stared at him, and then it clicked into place because he wasn’t normally slow to understand these things, and then his throat went a little tight. This guy—Rian—hewasthe professor. The guy Dmitri had been rambling on to.
“You look like you might be sick,” Rian said. “Is it professor panic or something else?”
“I’m not,” he started, “I didn’t know you were,” but he didn’t know what to say because frankly he’d never been in this position before. Even though he lived in the same place as all his high school teachers, they’d always been sort of abstract figures. Seeing them shopping at the supermarket was like spotting a celebrity—except instead of autographs there was hysterical avoidance.
And they definitely didn’t talk to him like he was a person. Sometimes they were sweet, mostly they were patronizing, but none of them looked at him like he had anything worthwhile to say.
Not the way Rian was looking at him now.
“I think I get how you’re feeling.”
“I bet you don’t,” Dmitri fired back, then flushed again.
“This is all new and a little terrifying. Believe me when I say I’ve been there. I’m from a small town,” Rian went on. He hopped up on the front table, which Dmitri realized was the table he’d probably sit at for the lecture, and he swung his legs in the space under it. “I grew up in Ohio, in the middle of fucking nowhere, and my graduating class was seventeen students including me.”
Dmitri blinked. “Okay,damn.”
“Most towns aren’t like the one I grew up in,” Rian said with a grin. “I got the hell out of there as fast as I could, and the first time I sat in a lecture hall I almost pissed my pants. I was terrified. But it didn’t take long for me to realize everywhere has their own sort of ecosystem. All you have to do is learn it.”
“And you did?”
Rian grinned. “And I did. My life plan changed, which was weird, but also fine. I mean, I didn’t exactly see myself as some community college history teacher, but here we are.”
“I,” Dmitri said slowly, then found a social courage he didn’t know he had, “can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
Rian winked. “It depends on the day. Just promise me if you run into me buying copious amounts of beer at Trader Joe’s one night, you won’t judge me too harshly.”
Dmitri laughed, and it was more anxious than not, but he found his tension relaxed a fraction. “Fair enough. It probably won’t happen though. I definitely don’t shop there. I live near the historic district so I’m kind of a Dollar Tree shopper.”
Rian’s eyebrows rose. “I like it down there. Great place to take the dog for a walk.”
Dmitri fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes.”
“I dated a guy once,” Rian said, then stopped and his eyes narrowed a little, and Dmitri could see him holding his breath, and he knew what he was feeling.
“I’m part of the alphabet soup,” he told him. “Asexual and I guess…homoromantic? Which doesn’t mean you should trust me—I could totally be a secret bigot. But…I’m not?”
“Was that last part a question?” Rian asked, one corner of his mouth quirking up. His expression reminded him of Raphael, and he felt suddenly right and wrong about this guy.
