“Something like that,” I said shortly. Neither of them had ever stepped foot inside a public school.
“So common,” Arden said. “Much better to use big words and convoluted sentences that only a linguist could decipher. Reading is so much more enjoyable that way, don’t you think?”
“Kitty has claws,” Marquis said with a delighted smirk.
“Do you have some literary background, Arden?” Liam asked and I groaned aloud that Liam was asking for his credentials.
“No, but I read books and visit the library.”
“And where did you go to school?”
I was embarrassed that I’d asked him the same thing, only I hoped, for better reasons.
“St. Petersburg Community College,” Arden said mildly. “But I never finished.”
“You told me Brown,” I said, immediately regretting it. I didn’t want our front divided.
He shrugged. “I had to drop out after my first year and move back home to take care of my father.”
“There’s nothing wrong with community college or trade school for that matter,” Liam said in a cloying tone. “Not everyone has the aptitude or resources for a four-year university. And why force it? Not everyone needs to be a scholar.”
“Whatever happened to college being bureaucratic bullshit?” I said to Liam. It was something he, himself, had told me when he was failing out of organic chemistry, which he later dropped and, as a result, had to inform his parents that he was switching majors from pre-med to creative writing.
“Is that what you are?” Arden asked Liam evenly. “A scholar?”
“A poet, yes. And what is it that you do, Arden?”
“I’m a model.”
Liam’s eyes raked over him, assessing him coolly. “And how many years does the typical modelling career last for a man? Until you lose your hair?”
“Liam, you’re being a dick,” I said. “Apologize.”
Liam took a sip of wine, simmering with fury. “I’m sorry for insulting your boyfriend, Michael.”
“Apologize to Arden.” I didn’t bother to correct his assumption.
He sighed and gave Arden a disparaging look. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you. You see, I’ve known Michael for several years now, as a colleague and a friend, and I thought we could have a frank discussion about his work, but I understand your need to prove yourself, what with your relationship being sonewand all.”
“That was a shitty apology,” Arden said. “Next time try fewer words.”
Franco let out a loud guffaw. Bitzy interjected with some news about one of our old classmates who was studying Neolithic art in Scotland, and I let my gaze drift to the enigmatic man at my side. Fierce and uncompromising. Loyal too. He smiled warmly and I returned it. Dinner was wrapping up, and I was suddenly tired of my friends and their pretentious bullshit.
“Want to get out of here?” I asked him.
Arden shrugged. “Why not?”
4
the apartment
Arden took me back to his apartment. On our walk there I apologized again for my friends’ behavior—Liam’s specifically—and Arden waved it off. It was similar to when I’d apologized for my clumsiness when we’d first met, and he’d dismissed it as if the slight were of no consequence to him.
“I liked having you in my corner,” I said honestly. “Your opinion matters to me.”
He smiled. “Your work is good, Michael, and Liam was being rude.”
“We have a competitive thing going on between us. We have since undergrad.”
