“You’re funny.”
“And you’re a dick!”
“Excuse me,” said a booming voice from the front. It was Professor Sharpe. How much had he heard? Was Ethan being pre-disbarred? He could feel his face burn up to equator levels. “Please keep conversations until after class.”
“Real smooth,” the guy said.
“What’s your name?”
“Greg.”
“Well, Greg. Don’t talk to me. Pretend there is a brick wall between us. Leave me alone.”
“I was. I was calmly using my phone until you began striking up a conversation.”
Ethan rolled his eyes. He was not going to win against Greg. Guys like him didn’t care about being rational or logical. They just wanted to be right, even if they were wrong. Ethan ignored him for the rest of class and swore to himself that he would make it here on time for the rest of the quarter, if only to permanently avoid his seatmate.
CHAPTER THREE
Ethan loved hanging out with Jessica, just not in her room. Clothes on the floor, perpetually unmade bed, papers stacked on papers making it hard to have her laptop fully open on her desk. That was her freshman-year dorm room; her current sophomore-year room was even worse, if that was possible. The closet looked like a serial killer lair. Clothes slid half-off hangers. Piles of…something accumulated in the corners. Ethan sat on her bottom bunk bed with Anna and felt something jab into his butt.
A comb. Brown hairs bunched in the teeth.
He withheld any reaction, remembering how defensive Jessica got when Dave brought it up last year. He couldn’t handle her arguing skills. Instead, he kept talking.
“This guy was such an asshole. Such a know-it-all. He was like, ‘preparing to give a slew of hand jobs later?’”
“Are you serious?” Anger flashed in Jessica’s eyes. Ethan had been pissed at what Greg had said, but in retrospect, he found it a little funny. Mostly for the shock value.
“I can’t believe that!” Anna said, though Ethan wondered if she knew what that was.
“He’s one of those rich fraternisluts who planned his classes around his party schedule,” Ethan said.
“What an obnoxious and, frankly, homophobic thing to say. We should alert a counselor. He can’t go around saying stuff like that.”
“I don’t think he knew I was gay. He just wanted to get a rise out of me.” Although maybe Greg did know. Ethan never knew how obvious his gayness was to others. He didn’t act flamboyantly like other gay guys on campus (well, he didn’t think he did), though he admired their fearlessness.
“I am so tired of these guys. They’re the same ones on Wall Street who crashed the stock market in ’08, and they’re the same ones who make all those brain-dead action movies that objectify women,” Jessica said.
Ethan kept silent. He knew from experience that Jessica could get very passionate, and she needed a minute to cool down.
“Forget them,” Anna said through tight lips. Ethan wondered if she wanted to sayfuck ‘em. Perhaps Ethan should say that to Greg in the next class.
No, he wouldn’t. He wasn’t going to sit next to him and interact with him again. Once was enough. But then why did Ethan keep thinking about that class and that wicked smirk?
“Hey, do you want to try a new dining hall tonight?” Jessica asked, back to her regular self. Her chill self.
“Where?” Anna asked.
“The one in Maynard.”
“Isn’t it the same food, though?”
“Yeah, but I heard they have a Make Your Own Sushi station this week.”
“I’m there,” Ethan said. “How’d you hear about it?”
Jessica flashed him a warm smile. “I’m a journalist. I keep my ears open.”
