Chapter 8
~
Lucas
“I can’t believe you actually own a button-down,” Ronan said, pretending to eye me up and down as he, Oren and I made our way up the steps to the faculty mixer venue. “And then of course you had to wear them with desert boots. You came so close.”
We all had to dress up for the occasion, something our HOD insisted on despite the fact that previous mixers tended to err on the latter part of the “business-casual” card.
“You’re wearing a damn scarf,” I pointed out sarcastically. “And the day you outgrow those old-man cardigans you’re so fond of is the day you get to comment on my style.”
“What style?” he shot back. “Ask Oren what he thinks.”
“I’d like to stay out of this conversation, thank you both,” Oren said, ever the peace-keeper. He shook his head. “You’re like children.”
“The gray hair attests to the contrary,” Ronan countered.
“What gray hair?” I asked, matching his tone from earlier. “I see only one between us who fits that description.”
Ronan raised a brow at me. “Keep up with the stress and working yourself half to death and you’ll get there sooner than you think, Lucas.”
I knew that he was still only jesting, but the reality of what he said carried some bite to it. And maybe he was right; I’d been the first in my family to graduate and to secure a prestigious career, let alone at my age. That was a lot of pressure.
Maybe it would eventually age me even quicker.
There were times when Ronan seemed younger than I was, like he lived in a more colorful reality than the one I confined myself to.
But I’d staked so much of who I was on what I was able to accomplish, and that was a hard thing to gamble for anything as fickle as happiness.
I rarely unleashed the part of me that wanted and needed more than that. And the only recent time I’d done that was…
I cleared my throat, trying to banish thoughts of the boathouse from my mind.
But I could still see her writhing above me.
I could still taste her on my tongue, still feel the softness of her body in my hands and hardness of the floor beneath my knees as I gave into my impulses and let myself drown in her.
That was a sort of happiness still all too fucking vivid.
But we’d discussed it, and I’d promised that it would never happen again. I was simply going to have to relearn abnegation, as quickly as I’d managed to forget it.
Oren’s low whistle drew my attention back to the present. “They picked a fancy place this year, didn’t they?”
And that it was. The building they’d chosen was a modern rendition of baroque opulence, all glass and golden stones and marble. If anything, we were probably underdressed.
Ronan clicked his tongue. “How much do you want to bet Abe managed to wiggle his way into having a say in the venue? The man is nothing if not proactive in his delusions of grandeur.”
“You don’t like him very much, do you?” Oren asked.
Ronan’s face twisted. “You’ll discover for yourselves why the majority of faculty members choose to give him a wide berth.
There are snakes and then there’s Abe Halliwell.
I’ve yet to see anyone match their self-preservation with their lack of integrity as closely as he does. It’s rather impressive, actually.”
“And you’re a man who’s not easily impressed,” I said.
“Consider me captivated in the worst possible sense of the word,” he mumbled.
By now we’d reached the giant glass doors. Inside, we could see familiar and unfamiliar faces working the room, champagne flutes in hand.
“See you boys on the other side,” Oren announced, heading in first with a sigh that made it known he was not particularly looking forward to the rest of the evening. I couldn’t blame him. Even the most passionate of academics tended to find these sorts of events tedious.
Fake smiles and presentations, stuffy greetings and stiff conversations. There wasn’t exactly much to enjoy.
Ronan turned to me. “Godspeed.”
I nodded grimly before we both headed into the fray.
The following half hour of scripted socializing and introductions dragged on forever.
I loved my field of work, I truly did. I loved teaching.
The lectures I gave always breezed by, especially when it was a particularly productive class.
And when I came across another individual whose vision scoped beyond just the paycheck, I always genuinely appreciated the discussion.
But most of this was just routine mundanity.
Nothing like the dinner I’d shared with June and Oren and Ronan. I was still thinking about that evening with a sort of melancholic fondness when none other than Abe Halliwell tapped my shoulder.
“Apologies for the interruption, Lucas, but I wanted to have a word with you,” he said with an almost jittery urgency. I excused myself from the conversation I’d just been having with a visiting professor and nodded towards Abe.
He led me to a quieter part of the room, as though this were some covert, highly sensitive information exchange. I couldn’t help but notice with wry amusement that, despite him being Ronan's age at thirty-nine, he looked two decades older.
Short, portly and balding with a rodent-like countenance, it didn’t help that his eyes constantly darted around the room. Made him look shifty. When he seemed satisfied that we were out of earshot from everyone else, he leaned in as though confiding a secret.
“There’s been some rather unsavory rumors going around campus lately,” he said.
My whole body tensed.
Did someone find out about what happened between June and me? I knew for a fact that June wouldn’t have said anything, and I certainly hadn’t. Were we seen? My blood ran cold as I recalled the damn boathouse door. I hadn’t checked to close it beforehand.
But Abe’s next words unwound the coil of anxiety that had me in a vise.
“I’m not sure how well acquainted you are, but apparently Professor Bass has a concerning predilection for alcohol,” he said with some disdain.
This was about Henry Bass, the Professor of Practice.
“You mean he likes to drink?” I asked, relief causing an involuntary laugh to accompany my words.
Abe’s face pinched in contempt. “It’s not funny, Lucas. New England University has a pristine reputation that should be on the onus of every staff member to protect. And from the sounds of it, it’s less a passing hobby and more of a lifestyle problem.”
I frowned. “I didn’t mean to make light of it. But if it’s that much of a problem he’s dealing with, then perhaps there should be more focus on getting him help and less on the university’s reputation.”
“His personal life is none of our business insofar as it doesn’t impact us,” he spat.
“I don’t think you realize how serious this is.
It’s one thing for your personal life to be a mess.
But when it’s something that could potentially be broadcast for public consumption, well, that changes things, doesn’t it? ”
His words landed like a blow.
“Yes, that does change things,” I murmured.
And once again, my thoughts were brought right back to June. If a simple drinking rumor was enough to cause this much of a stir, then I didn’t want to imagine what would happen if it was discovered that a professor had sex with one of his students.
On campus grounds, no less.
Abe looked relieved, as though just speaking about this was enough to assuage his concerns. “I wish everyone else could be as serious as the academics in our department. We would never have any issues like that.”
Oh, if only you knew, buddy.
I gave him a forced smile. “Thanks for the heads up. I’ll… keep an eye out, I suppose.”
He nodded and scuttled off, probably to go try and recruit more followers. I drifted aimlessly around for the rest of the evening until finally, I met up with Ronan. I was about to debrief him on my run-in with Abe when I noticed his expression already looked soured.
“Who did you speak to that left you looking like this?” I asked jokingly.
But humor didn’t seem to hold any appeal to him right now.
“Have you heard about Henry Bass’s drinking rumor?” he asked seriously. It was almost disconcerting to see him look this solemn.
“Your good friend Abe might have mentioned something about it, yes,” I said.
It was actually rather unfortunate that the poor man’s business was being spread around campus like that.
“Why does that have you so frazzled? He’d hardly be the first staff member to have his vices.
Are you also hiding a drinking problem I didn’t know about? ”
“No. But…” he hesitated, sounding unsure of himself. “Lucas, can you keep this just between the two of us?”
I was now truly invested. I’ve never known Ronan to take risks.
Yes, he was a flirt and too charming for his own good sometimes but he’d never really taken anything beyond that.
In fact, I thought sometimes, he enjoyed flirting with the idea of risk most of all.
What could he possibly have done to warrant this sudden gravitas?
“Of course,” I answered, just as seriously.
He took another moment to look around before he finally told me. “Listening to the reaction that Bass caused made me think twice about a student I had my eye on.”
My eyes widened in surprise. “A student? Who?”
“That is a detail I will not be sharing,” he answered. “But the point stands. Perhaps I haven’t been in my right mind lately and I’d forgotten how fragile this all is; one’s reputation in an environment like this. Just one mistake and your entire life’s work crumbles to nothing.”
His words made me feel sick to my stomach. Part of me wanted to tell him about June. I knew that he’d noticed and entertained frivolous engagements with students before, though it’d never truly amounted to something serious.
But how could I offer anything—whether criticism, judgement or advice—when I myself had already acted on the very thing he was now only considering? That wouldn’t just be throwing stones from a glass house, it would be the equivalent of driving through said glass house with a bulldozer.
“Well, Ronan, I can’t say I ever thought I’d hear you say that,” I settled on making a simple factual statement instead. “I didn’t take you for the reckless type.”
His expression didn’t change, and he was clearly deep in thought. My own thoughts were driving me to leave, not just to escape the noise but to do something I probably should’ve done a long time ago.
“I think I’m going to call it a night,” I told him, patting his shoulder.
“Already? It’s still early,” he said, gesturing around us at the lively gathering.
“I’m not feeling too well,” I lied. “I think I might be coming down with something. Enjoy the rest of the night.”
Before I even made it to my car, I already had my phone pulled out and June’s contact selected. I typed as I walked, my heart leaping even further up my throat with every keystroke.
Me: Meet me in my office. It’s urgent.