Then—
Applause.
Muffled through the doors, but unmistakable. Real, genuine applause.
My whole body sags with relief.
The doors swing open a few minutes later, and students start filing out. I scan every face until?—
There he is.
Doc looks a little green. Sweaty. His hair is sticking up like he's been running his hands through it. But there's a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and when he spots me, it grows into something real.
"How'd it go?" I push off the wall, already moving toward him.
"Professor Harrington stopped me after." Doc's voice is slightly shaky, but his eyes are bright. "He said I did well. Said I'll have more than a passing grade. That your tutoring seems to have helped me understand the nuances of psychology."
"Doc, that's amazing!"
I grab him, lifting him clean off the floor, and kiss the hell out of him right there in the middle of the hallway.
He makes a surprised sound against my mouth, but then his legs wrap around my waist, and he's kissing me back just as hard. His hands fist in my shirt, and my hands grip his thighs. We probably look ridiculous, but I don't care.
I don't care about anything except this man in my arms.
The auditorium doors open again behind us.
"Well," a familiar voice says, warm with amusement. "I see the work you two did together is paying off."
We break apart, well, Doc rears back, but I'm still holding him, to find Professor Harrington standing there with a knowing smile.
"Yeah," I manage, brain short-circuiting. "Thanks for, uh, hooking us up."
Wait. No. That came out wrong.
"I don't mean hooking us up," I backpedal frantically. "I mean, lining us up. I mean, arranging for us to?—"
I give up and put my hand over my face.
Professor Harrington laughs, a genuine, delighted sound. "You're welcome. Gentlemen, have a nice afternoon."
He walks off down the hallway, still chuckling.
I want to die. I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole.
Doc, the traitor, is laughing too.
"I hate you," I mutter.
"No, you don't." He slides down from my arms but grabs my hand, tugging me along the hallway. "Come on, let's get out of here before you embarrass yourself more."
"Not possible. I've reached peak embarrassment. It's all downhill from here."
"Somehow I doubt that."
We walk hand in hand toward the exit, and slowly the mortification fades. Doc passed his presentation. He's going to pass the class. All those tutoring sessions, all those flashcards and practice speeches, they worked.
"So," I say as we step outside into the afternoon sun, "party at the house tonight. Are the guys coming? Your roommates?"
