“Sorry,” said Paul, “I’m talking your ear off. But I would love to get together if you have time.” He smiled. “To talk about your work.”
“Wonderful, delightful,” Elaine said. “I’m so pleased you made the connection. And Mark, Stephen and you must come for dinner. Robert’s a little in love, I think.” She laughed.
“Sure, sure,” I said, not really listening. “That sounds great.”
I crossed the room and Tyler acknowledged me with a slight dip of his head, the smallest gesture. There was something feline in the arc of him, lithe and disinterested.
“What are you doing here?” I spoke quietly, willing him not to draw attention our way.
“Nothing. Hanging out.” I’d seen this look on his face before, nights when he showed up late at my apartment, damp and tingling with drink.
“This isn’t really for students.”
Tyler shrugged, but not even. Less than a shrug. “No one else seems to mind.”
“What happened to Addison?”
“He went to the bathroom.” Tyler slouched into the wall, examining his cup.
“Is something going on?”
“No. Why?”
“I haven’t heard from you.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I got busy finishing up classes.” He looked up at me. “Are you upset?”
“Of course not.” There was an insistence in my voice I didn’t like and I tried to soften it. “But is something bothering you?”
“Not at all.”
“It’s just—you seem a little off.”
“I think I seem just like myself.” He reached for the bottle. Vodka. More than half of it gone. He refilled his cup and I glanced around us.
“You should be careful with that. It’ll be a mess if you get caught.”
Tyler snorted.
“I’m not trying to hassle you,” I said.
That half shrug again. “It’s no hassle.”
“Tyler, listen.” Why were we fighting? “I didn’t mean—”
And then Safie was beside us—I hadn’t even noticed her approach.
“What’s happening over here?” Her eyes passed from Tyler to me and back to him. “I’m not sure we’ve met. I’m Dr. Hartwell.”
Tyler smirked. He raised his cup and emptied it in one long swallow.
“I was just wishing Professor Lausson happy holidays.”
I followed Tyler’s eyes across the room. Addison had returned—he stood by the doorway, watching. Tyler signaled for him to turn around.
“Well it’s probably time to say goodnight,” said Safie.
Tyler grinned, a tight smirk. “Goodnight.” He reached his empty cup toward the shelf—he missed, and it clattered to the floor. I watched him weave across the room, limbs loose and swinging.
