“You justthinkyou don’t.”
Before he can respond, Professor Langton strolls into the room with a battered briefcase he dumps on the table.
As is his way, he doesn’t say anything, just waits for the class to realize he’s there.
It’s a bizarre power play. Bizarre, mostly, because it doesn’t work.
“You’re sending him the evil eye. It’ll bring him over here,” Callan surprises me by muttering as he drags his things out from his satchel and sets up for the lecture.
“He’s such a misogynistic pig,” a woman steams behind me.
I peek over my shoulder. “You got that right. I know you from the diner, don’t I?”
“Victoria Vasov.” She twists a strand of white-blonde hair around her finger. Although the move’s pure Barbie, nothing about this girl is that. “You probably recognize my housemate Shay more than me.”
“Ohhh, cute brunet, right? Tall as hell and with a face that belongs on a billboard?”
“That’s the one. Though, it’s not his face that belongs on a billboard.” She winks. “If you get my drift.”
“You’re dating?”
Her eyes flash. “Shit! He’s coming.”
Swiftly, I stare straight ahead, not wanting to catch Langton’s ire.
Too late.
He’s moved so that I’m straight in his line of sight, but before he can even open his mouth, Callan decides to surprise me again.
Leaning forward like the eager beaver I know he isn’t, because he rarely answers questions or instigates discussions in class, he calls out, “Professor, I was thinking about how everyone says Nietzche isn’t a nihilist, but I believe inBeyond Good and Evil,he’s arguingformoral nihilism, meaning that even the most horrific actions aren’t inherently wrong?—”
Langton, pissed at anyone besmirching his idol, stacks his hands onto his hips and decimates Callan’s basic-bitch arguments.
Leaving me out of the guy’s crosshairs…
Honestly, Langton’s leg is so easy to pull.
At the end of class, I grab Callan’s arm when he gets to his feet. “Thanks for that, Callan. You didn’t have to go to bat for me.”
“No worries. I noticed last week that he always gives you shit. It doesn’t seem fair to me. Plus, you know, you offered me a manicure,” he jokes.
“My dad said I’d have a problem with him.”
He pauses mid-stowing away of his laptop. “Why?”
“Something to do with a stunt he pulled when they were attending Oakwood together.”
“Huh.”
“Huh?”
“We’re both legacies.”
I gag. “I don’t even want to hear that word for another twenty years.”
“Twenty?”
“I’m not sold on having kids at all. Before my thirties would be pushing it.”
