Walker and Cameron sat in the back of the lecture hall listening to the professor passionately talk about the evolution of American cities. He was a million rows away, but it felt like a conversation over dinner. Walker didn’t remember his professors being this vivid. Most of his classes at Browerton were blurs of memories smeared together like a baby’s fingerpaintings. He could recall going to class but not what was taught.
Cameron leaned over his seat and whispered into Walker’s ear. “I can’t believe your version of playing hooky is coming to class.”
“The world works in mysterious ways.”
“The world.” Cameron returned to his seat. “Right.”
“Just listen,” Walker whispered in his ear. “Don’t think about the exam. Don’t think about taking notes. Just let yourself be interested.”
Cameron leaned back in his seat. He closed his notebook. Walker watched him try to focus.
The professor clicked onto a slide about gentrification of cities. He discussed how the Upper West Side in Manhattan evolved from a dangerous, violent, lower class neighborhood, to a yuppiefied area with cute shops and little crime. Walker wished he could visit New York.One day, he told himself.
“That’s interesting, right?” Walker asked.
Cameron gave a reluctant nod.
The professor next talked about the people behind gentrification: DINKs. Double Income No Kids. Walker smiled at the acronym. That’s what he and Doug were. Doug had dared them to move to a bad part of town because gays were supposed to be at the forefront of gentrification.
Walker was the most attentive person in that class, and soon it seemed that the professor was talking directly to him. He felt a shift rumbling through him. The windows of his brain were opened, letting in sunshine and brushing away the cobwebs. He found himself sitting up straight and forgetting that he had a cell phone with email.
He realized that his brain was doing what it was supposed to all along. It wasn’t blindly going through the motions. It was absorbing knowledge. He turned his neck, and Cameron was looking at him with warm eyes, and a hint of admiration.
“What?” Walker asked.
“Nothing.” Cameron didn’t flinch. He remained fixed on Walker, which made Walker a little turned on. “I like watching you like this.”
“Engrossed?”
“Impassioned.”
Walker didn’t know how to handle that. Was that a compliment? “We can go soon.”
“I don’t want to.” Cameron rested his head on Walker’s shoulder. He closed his eyes and looked peaceful.
Walker contemplated putting his arm around Cameron. Was that what he wanted or was he just bored? Ultimately, Walker didn’t move. But he remembered why he wasn’t as focused on classes when he was a student. Cute boys were just too distracting.
Φ
Walker didn’t go back to work after class. He and Cameron meandered all throughout campus. Memory after memory flashed in Walker’s head. The past was so close, yet out of reach. They visited parts of the campus he hadn’t been to since he was a student.
“Why are we going to a library?” Cameron asked, following behind Walker. “Has one class turned you into a total bookworm?”
“Just trust me.”
They entered the Browerton library, which wasn’t anything to look at on the inside or outside. Walker hadn’t been in here in years, but he could’ve found his way with his eyes closed. They walked past a computer terminal, and just after the reference desk, Walker and Cameron made a sharp left down a narrow hallway.
“Where are you taking me?” Cameron asked.
“Just trust me.”
The hallway twisted around like the bottom of a pretzel, then spat them out into a cavernous hallway with exposed, faded brick and stone flooring.
“My friends and I used to call that the Time Machine Hallway.”
At the end of the hall were two massive, wooden double doors that could’ve been the entrance to a castle. Instead, they led to Waring Library.
“Waring Library houses the university’s music archives,” Walker said.
