Ok, that thought makes me hotter than I should be while sitting in the student center examining the data for our channel. I’m hard, and although there are any number of ways to see my hard cock all over the internet, that’s not something I need to be showing off in a public space like this.
Adjusting in my seat, I open up a tab to my assignment for my actuary class and force myself to concentrate on that. Nothing better than homework to dull the low-level horniness that plagues me every hour of every day.
I’m on the last problem when the chair across from me moves, and I look up to find Luis pulling the chair out and sitting. He’s on the short list of people that I’m not a fan of, but we’ve been friendly until he revealed how he feels about Magnus, and he doesn’t know about my conflicted feelings yet. I haven’t decided if I should tell him to fuck off or not. Magnus is a lot more forgiving than I am.
“Hey,” he greets me, as he unzips his backpack. “You ready to go over the lab results?”
I blink in confusion before remembering that we were supposed to be meeting here to do this. I’d forgotten, and it’s literally only by chance that I’m in the right place at the righttime. He’s the graduate TA tutor that we can sign up with to go over our individual results in the criminology lab, and I signed up for tutoring once a month.
I look at my phone, and yep, there’s the silent reminder of the meeting right there in the notifications.
“You mind if I finish this last problem first so I don’t have to switch study modes twice?” Criminology and statistics do not occupy the same brain space for me.
Luis waves me on. “Sure, man. I’ll get some reading in.”
“Thanks,” I say, and get back to my statistics. The assignment isn’t difficult, but it is very time consuming, and it takes me fifteen minutes to finish the one I’m working on. When I’m done, I put that away and bring up the criminology work. “I’m ready.”
Luis nods and pulls up the data on his laptop so he can review it while we talk about my project. We spend an hour going over the data, and he offers insight on how to present it, and then we spend the next hour putting together a presentation. I can admit by the time we’re done that his insights were extremely useful, but my stomach is trying to eat itself and growls loud enough to be heard over the din of the student center, and that makes me less than inclined to be gracious about it.
Luis chuckles. “Hungry? You want to get dinner? It’s meatloaf night.”
Meatloaf is the most popular night of the month in our student cafeteria. Somehow the cooks have managed to capture the entire meat-eating student body with meatloaf. My mouth is already watering, but eating dinner with Luis isn’t my first choice.
“I was going to text Magnus,” I prevaricate, because while that is true, we don’t usually eat dinner together on Tuesdays.
Luis shrugs, but there’s a hint of disgust in his expression. “See if he wants to join us,” he says carelessly.
“You don’t like him,” I point out levelly. “I don’t think he deserves to have to eat with someone who dislikes him as much as you do.”
Luis’s expression smoothes out. “I’m trying to see what you see in him because we’re friends.”
“Sometimes people’s personalities just clash, and there’s no reason to force yourself to be friends with them,” I reply, but I actually appreciate the effort he’s putting in.
“I know, but I still want to try,” he replies as my phone buzzes.
I pick it up, reading the text message preview from the unknown number.
You never should have touched him.
Before I can reply, the sound of a gunshot rings out, the window shatters, and my textbook flies off the table all at once. It takes me a second to figure out what’s happening, and then I hit the floor with Luis on top of me. Another gunshot rings out, and I hear the bullet hit the table where we were just sitting.
Luis grabs my shoulders and rolls me away from where we are, taking me out of the line of fire and behind one of the sofas nearby. He finally rolls off me, staying low. I hear sirens in the distance over the sound of my panting breaths, and then Luis whispers, “Thank fuck,” just as another gunshot rings out and a hole appears in the couch above us.
“Shit!” we both exclaim, scrambling in opposite directions.
I land behind another sofa, but in the moments that follow that quick scramble, there isn’t another gunshot and the sirens get close enough that I think the shooter must have either run away or been caught. Not that I’m stupid enough to move until I see an actual police officer.
My phone buzzes, startling me. It’s still in my hand. I don't even know how that’s possible.
Magnus:Where are you?
Shaking, it takes me several attempts to get the words to make sense.
Me:Student Center. Getting shot at by our stalker, I think.
Magnus takes several seconds to respond.
Magnus:The police have the shooter in custody.
