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“Then what is it about?” I say quickly, trying not to let his confidence in me go to my head.
But there’s a pause and a sight before he responds. “We’re friends, aren’t we, Roisin?”
“Of course,” I reply, trying not to let my concern seep into my voice. “You’ve been like a father to me since I moved onto campus.”
“And you have been the prodigy I dreamed of since I was a boy,” Doug says dramatically.
I snort at his theatrics. “Oh, if only I’d been around then. I’d probably be the one with the Oscar right now.”
“Your time will come, my darling. I’m sure of it.”
“What’s with all the flattery, Doug?” I say with a smile.
There’s another pause, and I hear him shuffle his phone to his other ear. “I feel that I may have let you down… and I wish to rectify that.”
“You could never let me down.”
The line suddenly feels very tense. “You don’t know what I’ve done yet.”
“Well, I know I can forgive you for it,” I say matter-of-factly.
“You are too good for this world, Roisin.”
I wait for Doug to say something more, but the compliment seems to hang in the air. Something really doesn’t feel right.
“So…?” I prompt.
“It’s perhaps better explained in person,” Douglas says, finally breaking his silence.
I see a set of headlights turning onto the road and wave at it. “I’m flagging down a taxi as we speak.”
“Attagirl. Look after yourself; I’ll see you soon.”
***
The cab is forty-six dollars, and the driver doesn’t even bother giving me the change. So much for a cheap night out.
But as I get out of the car and look up at the block of buildings drenched in the golden sunrise, I’m just glad that I’m almost home.
I contemplate heading back to my dorm first to change, but I know as soon as I lay eyes on my bed, I’m going to collapse into it. So, instead, I deviate my course over to Douglas’s office.
There aren’t too many people hanging around at this hour. Mainly dancers heading toward the gym or tired-looking lecturers beelining for the coffee shop over the road. In fact, when I swipe into Doug’s building, the place is completely deserted.
At least only Doug will see me like this. Lord knows he’s seen me in worse states and not batted an eyelash. Besides, my short brown skirt and flowing floral shirt are practically boho. If anything, he’ll enjoy the look.
It’s a shame about the smell. Maybe flinging vodka and lime around wasn’t my smartest move.
I don’t bother knocking on Doug’s door when I reach the end of the corridor. I’ve barged in on him more than enough times that he shouldn’t find it surprising.
Whether he appreciates it is another question entirely, but the old dandy usually has a soft spot for me.
“Before you say anything, I’m aware I need a little beauty sleep,” I say by means of greeting.
The door swings closed behind me, and I step into the familiar office. Every office here feels musty and outrageously underfunded—but Douglas seems to have cracked the code on making his feel at least a little homey.
When I glance over to the couches set up in the corner where we usually meet, I notice for the first time that we’re not alone.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you had company–”
