“You know I’m not actually qualified to be his teaching assistant, right?”
“Special circumstances. Professor Levine’s TA had to transfer in the middle of the semester, and he mostly needs someone to help him keep his schedule and office organized. I promise, he’s probably too much of a control freak to ask you to teach class or anything like that.”
The very thought makes me shudder—theater isnota class I have ever taken on purpose. I did what I needed to for general education credits and never looked back.
I don’t like public speaking.
Or being in front of people.
Or performing. Or…
“I—”
“You’re seriously a lifesaver. Everyone is really busy with it being halfway through the semester.” I was too, but I guess that didn’t count. “And Professor Levine has a bit of a… reputation.”
Hard-ass. Right.
Still…
My eyes glanced at the paper—the syllabus didn’t seem that complicated. It was just an intro class. They were mostly studying plays, working on the structure of writing their own performance, reading a few books… and a teaching assistant position, even if it wasn’t official,wouldlook great on my resume.
“Okay.” I blow out a breath, trying to do some mental gymnastics for exactly how I’m going to fit these new responsibilities into my already busy schedule, but I know I can figure it out. “When do I start?”
“I already told him you’d start next Wednesday.” Dylan stands, brushing a few crumbs from lunch off his lap and ruffling my dark hair while what he said clicks into place. He alreadytoldhim. Because apparently I’m a sure thing. “Thanks, Luca. You’re a lifesaver.”
“Sure,” I answer weakly, offering a smile that I don’t actually feel.
Lifesaver.
Pushover.
I have a feeling the words come hand in hand whenever people talk about me.
As soon as Dylan leaves, my eyes drop back to my phone… I’ve been staring at the blank search engine for a good half hour. Now that he’s gone and I’m going to have evenmoreresponsibilities with my new position after this week, I realize that it’s kind of now or never.
My fingers are shaking when I type in the words “gay clubs near me.”
A few names flash across the screen, and my eyes catch on the top result.
Mask.
“God…” I lock the screen before I work up the nerve to click on the results.
Yeah, I’m confused.
And yeah, I can’t evenlookat Zander without blushing now. I need to figure some things out… I just don’t know if going to a gay club is the answer.
There’s a chance if I go, no one is going to want me. There’s a chance that if I go, I’m going to hate it and realize that no, Idon’tenjoy flirting, I don’twanta relationship… I just apparently have a fetish for voyeurism.
The thought makes me cringe.
I just know that if I don’t follow through with this, if I don’t figure it out, the idea is always going to be there in my head. My brain is a chaotic enough place as it is… and the pounding beat of “do this now before your entire world falls apart” is playing a symphony I can’t ignore.
Chapter
Two
MADDOX
