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I opened the book to the index and started knocking down the questions I didn’t know. I summarized what the book said so none of my answers would look like they were copied from a book. Forty minutes later, I was done. Though I felt terrible inside and guilty for cheating, I felt good knowing I at least still had a chance at the internship. After all, it was for my family.
As I walked home from the bus stop, the hero feeling I had faded away. I wasn’t a hero, no matter if I ended up with the internship or not. I was the cause of my family having to leave Lithuania and for the deaths of people close to me, including Mom. Not to mention, the stranger I saw beaten to death in an alley. And if that weren’t enough, on top of all that, I was a test cheater.
Chapter Four
LUCAS
“Dammit, Justin.” I shook my head in both sadness and disgust as I viewed the surveillance video showing Justin looking at a textbook during the exam.
Cheating, in all forms, boiled my blood. Without fail, I encountered cheaters each semester. I hated cheaters with a passion, no matter who the student was. But never had I been this pissed off about a student cheating as I was with Justin. I’d had a soft spot for him ever since I laid eyes on him last semester.
Justin reminded me of my old flame, Quincy, who’d died while we were dating in college. Guilt still plagued me surrounding Quincy’s death, and I longed to look into his eyes just one more time to tell him all the things I should have when he was still alive.
It took me years before I even looked at another person with a romantic interest, and when I did, it led to heartbreak. The majority of my most comfortable relationships were with women. And after Quincy, it was difficult to look at another man. I managed to fall in love with Thomas, only to have my heart ripped from my chest. Behind closed doors, Thomas and I had incredible chemistry, but his conservative background won in the end. He eventually went back home to Denver to live the life he kept saying he was supposed to.
When Justin walked into my class on his first day, all I saw was Quincy. Justin’s six-foot-two, lean frame, hazel eyes, and brown hair mirrored Quincy, all the way down to how his hair took on an auburn hue when the light or sun hit it just right.
As I discovered, Justin was the young Biomedical Engineering student who I granted permission to attend my course without meeting the pre-requisites. I knew that no matter what he needed, I would ensure he had it. I felt bad for him the other day when I witnessed him being bullied, and it was difficult for me not to go into protective mode.
I saw Justin as a sign. It was like God handed me Quincy again and warned me not to mess up or act selfishly this time. That, or the Devil. Justin was my chance at redemption.
Justin had been a great student with a sharp mind. He was motivated and driven to succeed, despite being financially burdened. Because he was so sharp and wanted to go into the biomedical engineering field, I often pushed him. I challenged him verbally in class. A thrill would course through my body, reminding me of the passionate conversations Quincy and I had had. I often gave him shit about his handwriting so I wouldn’t let on that I favored him over all the other students.
But there was something very un-Quincy that drew me dangerously to him. Unlike Quincy, there was a taboo halo of sorts around Justin. He was a forbidden fruit. What made that so tempting was, often, when I looked at him in class, I noticed his eyes were focused on the fly of my pants. I couldn’t trust myself to behave around him—the pull toward him was that magnetic and undeniable.
The scores were posted earlier this morning in the department lobby. Next to Justin’s name, I typed, “See me.” While I waited for him to arrive, I debated sending an email to the dean and attaching the video that was forwarded to me of the incident. Though I’d go to great lengths for Justin, I drew the line at cheating. There would be repercussions.
I looked in the direction of the door when I heard a knock. Justin stood in the doorframe and slowly retracted his arm when we made eye contract. I stood from my chair and folded my arms across my chest. He was wearing a white t-shirt with the USC logo and a pair of jeans. Dangling from his hand was his backpack that the son-of-a-bitch jock broke the other day. Seeing Justin stand there, vulnerable, clutching his backpack, caused my anger to subside for the moment.
“Mr. Andris.” I unfolded my arms and walked around the side of the desk and stood in the open space between the desk and him.
“You wanted to see me, sir?”
I nodded and walked to the door as he walked in.
“Take a seat.” I closed the door and went back to my desk. Leaning against the front of the desk, I reached around and picked up my iPad. I cued up the video of him cheating, hit play, and handed it to him. My fingers curled under the edge of the desk as I watched the color drain from his face. I narrowed my eyes at the purplish bruise that was still present on his flesh. His hand that held the iPad started to shake and his knees bounced.
“Prof—”
“Why, Justin?”
I stared into his wide hazel eyes, silently demanding an answer. When he didn’t offer up a reason, I pushed him. I was seething with anger that he would do such a thing.
“You had an opportunity, Justin. Not only did you throw that away, but possibly your college education as well. I catch students like you each semester. You know what I do? I report them, fail them, and in some cases, see to it they’re expelled. I do not tolerate cheating. Period.”
“Oh God! No! Wait, please, Professor Grant. Let me explain.” Justin’s shaking hand rested over his stomach. His voice was panicked as he begged me to hear him out. And I wanted to hear him out because I didn’t want him to have to leave my class or the school.
“By all means, start talking.”
“I have a little sister with Batten disease. My dad and older brother work a lot of hours to cover the costs for her medication and treatment. Last semester I worked on campus in between classes. It’s minimum wage, and I have to work a lot to help my family financially. And because I work a lot, I can’t be home to help or be with her.” Justin looked down for a moment as he took a deep breath. “I heard about the internship and saw that it wasn’t a lot of hours and that it would still earn more money in the field I want to be in. I saw it as an opportunity to help my family. I bought the book you told me about and busted my ass trying to study it in a week’s time. My sister had two seizures this past week. Though I studied, it wasn’t enough with all the distractions going on around me. When I opened the test and read through the questions, I made a terrible decision and looked up the answers.” His shoulders slumped as he lowered his head again. “I’m pretty good at making bad decisions,” he said under his breath.
I loosened my grip on my desk as I listened to his explanation. I believed him, and my heart went out to him. I remembered back to a few days ago, hearing that asshole poke fun at Justin’s financial situation. I had to attempt to take a hard stance with him to drive home the seriousness of cheating, though.
“This is USC, Justin. This isn’t high school anymore, where you get a slap on the hand and come back to class the next day where all is forgotten. Decisions you make here will follow you.”
“Yes, sir. Believe me, I know. Repercussions have a way of biting me in the ass.”
My mind wavered for a moment as I stared at him, remembering the bully making a snide remark to him about his boyfriend giving him the bruise on his face. Did he have a boyfriend? My dick stirred in my pants as I pictured putting Justin over my knee and spanking his bare ass until it was bright red.
