Seth
Yeah.
I let the conversation drop and look out the window in time to see one of my students walking by. It’s impossible to tell who is who when all their jackets and hats look the same, but there’s something about the way they’re walking that hints at Brevan.
I watch until they’re out of sight. Maybe I shouldn’t, but I get to my feet and layer myself into my outdoor gear to follow.
Some of the domes don’t have bathroom or kitchenette facilities inside, so there are a couple of structures that serve as both. A communal bathroom and a communal kitchen. I pass one of the kitchens just as the door opens. I’m not sure which of my students it is with their faces practically wrapped like a mummy with their scarf, but they raise their hand in greeting.
I wave in return, inclining my head as I continue down the path. I see the figure I was following in the distance. He’s leaning against the railing on a patio. There’s a large fire behind him in a big firepit, but he’s staring at the mountains, his gloved hands on the railing.
While I don’t intend to stare, I linger just off the patio and watch him. I’m convinced that it’s Brevan now. I spent hours staring at his profile on the plane, and while he’s far more bundled now than he had been, I believe his build supports my assumption.
He’s peaceful. The weight of rejection that he’d been carrying around on his shoulders since LAX has melted away as he loses himself in the serene landscape. I wonder what he’s thinking about. Is he happy to be here?
I’d like to reassure him, but I’m not sure he realizes that the conversation between the girls concerning him was overheard. Maybe not by me, but by someone. Reassuring him might only make him remember, and I like to see him without that weight.
I haven’t talked to any of the student ambassadors at length. I haven’t gotten to know them. It reminds me of the conversation on the plane about not knowing my students, who feel the direct impact of the decisions I make.
A part of me feels like a hypocrite. I’m here pushing our brand of inclusion, and yet, I don’t know my students at all.
I remember myself as a student, and that younger self is who I think about every time I consider something that might have made my life better while I attended RDU. I’m not just pulling shit out of my ass.
But that was over twenty years ago. This is a different time. I’d like to say the world has changed since then, and it has, but some things have not changed for the better.
Queer voices have gotten louder.Youngqueer people are no longer accepting others’ need for their silence so they can pretend we don’t exist. They’re taking on the fight early, and they’re not stopping.
All those are positive changes.
But the fact that laws continue to move backwards with every step forward we take hasn’t changed. Religious suffocation hasn’t changed. Hate is still loud and around almost every corner.
So is being a student now all that different from when I was in school? Technology has advanced, obviously, but I can’t even say that’s a positive change as far as social structure. Now there’s a far larger reach to be bullied and hated on. At least the voices shouting back are equally loud.
That doesn’t truly satisfy my need to know whether the changes I view as positive are, in fact, received that way. Ineed them to be. Iwantthem to be. That’s the entire reason I conceptualized the sisterhood university program.
Brevan sighs, and I think I see his shoulders sag again. He’s picked up the weight once more. Before I consciously make the decision to do so, I step onto the patio and move toward him. I’m halfway to him when Brevan turns his head to look at me.
The beauty of his green eyes takes my breath away, and for a second, I don’t register anything else. Not until he speaks.
“Hi, Dr. Keller,” he says, and I blink out of my trance.
Wow. “Hello, Brevan. Please call me Kendrick.”
“That’s a cool name,” he says. “I’ve never heard it before.”
I join him at the railing and look at the mountains. “I had the benefit of being the only Kendrick in class.”
He smiles. “Me too. Well, not Kendrick but Brevan. I’ve never met another Brevan.”
As beautiful as the view is, I find that I’m looking at Brevan instead. “One-of-a-kind name for a one-of-a-kind person.”
His eyes meet mine, and his cheeks pinken. How… lovely.
CHAPTER 11
BREVAN
Idon’t think I’ve ever been complimented on my name. That was a compliment, wasn’t it? It’s not like I chose my name. Wait, that makes it sound like I don’t like it. I like it fine. And Idolike that I haven’t experienced being surrounded by people with the same name.
