Reckless (41 page)

“A
D
?” I was shocked.

She pressed her lips together. “Minus.”

“What?” That was impossible. At worst, I was expecting a B. I was working my butt off in her class, and my sculptures were as good as anybody else’s. I had assumed that, like Life Drawing, sculpture class would be graded on progress. “Why is it so low?”

“Because your work is shoddy and heavy-handed.”

“Heavy-handed? What does that mean?”

She smiled with ample superiority. “If you want to become a mason and pour cement for a living, you’re doing a terrific job.”
 

“But I’m learning,” I hoped I didn’t sound like I was whining. “Isn’t this a beginning-level class?”

“I would hope to see a finer level of execution in a college level course.” She leaned forward, going in for the kill, all smiles. “Not all of us have what it takes to become a figurative sculptor, Miss Smith. Perhaps you should consider a ceramics class. Ashtrays and painted plates might be more your speed.”

More my speed? She was making it sound like I wasn’t smart enough or talented enough to join her club. What an epic bitch. I felt myself starting to tear up. Then everything clicked into place.

I leveled a look at her. “You’re trying to push me out of your class.”

Marjorie’s perfectly plucked brows knotted together in a nasty, nervous bunch.

“It’s Hunter, isn’t it?” I asked.

“What?” she scoffed.

Even I knew how to recognize bald-faced denial. “You like him. That’s why you hired him as your model. You wanted him to be closer to you. But he’s interested in me. And it’s driving you nuts.”

“That is ridiculous! I’ve never heard such—”
 

“That’s why you want me to drop your class,” I continued forcefully, “or give up, or whatever. That’s why you’ve been so hard on me since day one. I’m competition, and you’re jealous.” I smiled my own superior smile.
Take that, you Epic Bitchinger!

“I don’t know where you get your crazy ideas, Miss Smith, but I assure you, your grade is a reflection of you performance in class,
not
some sort of teenaged love-triangle.”

“You know,” I said calmly, “one of the things I read about in Sociology, during the gender studies portion, was sexual harassment. I was curious, so I looked up sexual harassment policies here at SDU online. Do you know what a ‘hostile learning environment’ is, Professor Bittinger?”

“This is absurd, I don’t have to listen to—”

“You’re right, you don’t have to listen. But I see how you drool all over Hunter, and how you treat me worse than the other students. I’m the only one you single out for no reason.”

“I do no such thing, Miss Smith.”

“Then I’m sure you won’t care if I speak with the Dean about this. I bet he’ll be more than happy to hear me out.”

Marjorie’s eyes were wide and literally shaking with fear.

I stood up and slung my book bag over my shoulder. “See you in class, Professor.”

I smiled to myself as I walked out.

SAMANTHA

I was pleasantly surprised when I next attended Figurative Sculpting.

Professor Marjorie Bittinger was a new woman. You could even call her nice. I was able to focus entirely on my sculpture, and got a lot of work done.
 

Romeo, of course, was happy to distract.

At one point, when no one was looking, he caressed the butt of his Hunter sculpture and made bedroom faces at me, which for Romeo meant his tongue hanging out and his eyelids quivering. I giggled, expecting Major Bitchinger to be looking over my shoulder as usual, she had me trained, but she wasn’t. She was on the far side of the studio, helping another student.

What a relief.

I sighed contently. It seemed I would be enjoying a more forgiving classroom environment. One that was altogether non-hostile. Points for me.
 

Yay!

Hunter, on the other hand, was the same old laser-focused predator. Every single break was an opportunity for him to put new moves on me. Was he ever going to let me out of his sights?

The other thing I’d learned about sexual harassment at SDU was that the same rules applied to professors were also applied to Teaching Assistants. But Hunter wasn’t a TA. He was almost like a guest speaker, or contractor, for the school. I didn’t know if he had to follow similar rules or not. Maybe I needed to give him a lecture anyway, like I had Marjorie?

Something told me Hunter wouldn’t listen. Hunter did what Hunter wanted.

Besides, now that Major Marjorie was off my back, Hunter’s stalking didn’t seem like as big of a deal. He was a nuisance, but at least he was polite about it. He was harmless.

Wasn’t he?

When class was over, Romeo and I packed up our tools and walked out of the studio together.

“You know what I hate about sculpting class?” Romeo asked.

“I thought you loved sculpting,” I smiled.

“I do, but it’s a love-hate thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the truth is, I’m so embarrassed to say this, but, well…” He sounded really nervous.

“It’s okay, Romeo. Say whatever it is.”

He gave me a pleading look. “If you hadn’t noticed, I have a ‘thing’ for Hunter.”

I giggled. “No, I hadn’t noticed that,” I said sarcastically.

“Sam, I’m serious!” Romeo whined.

“Okay,” I relented. “Yes, so you think Hunter is hot? So what?”

“No, Sam. You don’t get it. I think I’m in love with him.”

We came to a stop on the pathway leading through the Eucalyptus grove outside the Visual Arts building

I looked at Romeo sympathetically. His face was genuinely desperate. Not fake Romeo comedy-desperate, but the real thing. I felt terrible for him.

“Oh, Romeo,” I said, “I don’t think Hunter is gay.”

“I know, but it doesn’t change the way I feel.”

“I don’t know what to tell you Romeo. I think you’re going to be disappointed, no matter what happens.”

“Maybe he’s bi?”

“I have no idea. But he doesn’t seem like it to me,” I said cautiously.

Romeo looked pathetically disappointed. “You really think so?”

“I’m sorry, Romeo. But yeah, I really don’t think Hunter is—”

“Hunter is what?” Hunter smiled, walking up behind us on the pathway.

Oh, great. Hunter was always butting in like clockwork. I think I was finally over it. “Nothing,” I sighed.

“Come on, what?” Hunter smiled. He had his aviator glasses on again, even though the sky was gray and overcast. “What do you think about me? I really want to know.”

I smiled to myself. I could
so
run with that. I could tell Hunter he was an egotistical jerk, he was shallow, he didn’t know when to quit, and being a dick model for underwear packaging was lame. Instead, I said, “I was just saying you were a good model for sculpting. It’s easy to see all your muscles.”

“I know,” Hunter smiled, his teeth shining prettily.

I saw Romeo swooning out of the corner of my eye. Why couldn’t Hunter be into Romeo instead of me? Then everyone could go about their business and live happily ever after.
 

“When are you going to let me take you out, Sam?” Hunter prodded.
 

“You could take
me
out,” Romeo said hopefully.

Hunter rolled his eyes at Romeo, clearly frustrated at him. I’d have thought that Hunter would be immune to Romeo’s constant overtures by now. I guess not. They were getting to him. So why couldn’t Hunter see that his hitting on me was just as tiresome? Too much testosterone applied to the classically one-track male mind was the likely answer.

Nothing I could do about that.

“Come on, Sam,” Hunter said, his voice rough with self-doubt, “let me take you out. Just once. I’ll show you a good time, I promise,” he pleaded.

I couldn’t believe it. Hunter’s confidence was finally starting to slip. It had only taken what, two months? He at least deserved an A for effort. But I wasn’t handing out any prizes. I sighed. “No, Hunter. There’s only one man in my life. In fact, he’s the love of my life.”

 
Hunter smiled his perfect smile. But this time, it looked sort of shark-like. “You sure?” he asked.

Yeah, he was getting frazzled. But he wasn’t giving up.

It was time for me to burst his bubble for good. I was tired of his game. Because that’s all it was. He didn’t listen. Ever. “What do you mean, am I sure? How many ways do I have to say it, Hunter? I’m involved. Off the market. Seeing someone. Going steady. Get the picture?”

Hunter raised an eyebrow. He still had some fight left in him.

“I’m totally available,” Romeo said nervously. “
On
the market. Seeing
nobody
.”

Hunter was temporarily distracted by Romeo’s antics.

I took that as my opportunity to escape. I started walking away quickly.
 

Hunter followed a second later. When he caught up to me, he flashed his sharkish grin, “We can still hang out, as friends, right?”
 

Wow, he sounded desperate. “No,” I said firmly, walking fast.
 

Romeo trotted to catch up with us. “I’m right here!” he hollered to Hunter, who ignored him. “Totally willing to be more than friends!”

Poor Romeo. I stopped, waiting for him to catch up.

Romeo caught his foot on a bump in the pavement and nearly blundered into Hunter.

Hunter’s brows clenched together and he growled at Romeo, “Dude, back the fuck off!! I’m not a fag!!”

Romeo regained his footing and stopped beside me. He was totally taken aback by Hunter’s words. For the first time since I’d met him, the constant glee went out of his eyes. He straightened stiffly, and pretended to examine his fingernails.

“What’s wrong with you?” I demanded of Hunter. “Don’t talk to my friend that way!”

Hunter’s brows relaxed and his lips widened into an easy smile. The way he went from angry to smiling his shark-smile reminded me of Lame Damian. Why was I not surprised?

Hunter ran his hand through his shaggy hair. “Sorry, dude, I didn’t mean that,” Hunter said smoothly, as if it was no big deal.

“We should go,” I said to Romeo. I held out my hand to him, almost like a parent. I needed to get him out of here.

“Okay,” Romeo said softly.

I took his hand and led him around Hunter.

“Wait, I’m sorry!” Hunter called, trotting to catch up. “Samantha, hold on a second!”

He clapped a hand on Romeo’s shoulder.

Romeo flinched.

“I’m sorry, man,” Hunter said. “I didn’t mean to call you a fah—” He stopped himself, flustered. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Romeo stopped and stared at Hunter. Romeo’s face was tight. He and I both looked at Hunter expectantly.

“Ahh, I don’t know what to say,” Hunter stammered. “Uh, I apologize?”

Romeo was still stone cold.

“Try it a different way,” I said to Hunter.

He was confused. “Try what a different way?”

“Your apology?”

He growled petulantly, “How many different ways do I have to say it?”
 

“As many ways as I had to tell you I had a boyfriend?” I sneered.

“Huh?” Hunter was dumbfounded.

I rolled my eyes, “Don’t you remember how many times I’ve had to say ‘no’ to you over the last two months, Hunter? I was starting to think I was going to have to file a restraining order against
you
. Because you never give up.” I suddenly realized what I was saying to Hunter was what I had wanted to say to Damian Wolfram for the last three years, but never got to. Lecturing Damian in effigy felt great. I wanted to do more of it. I smiled inwardly. No more stupid jerks were going to walk over me. “Hunter, maybe you should try apologizing to people you hurt at least as often as you try to get in a girl’s pants.”

Hunter chuckled. “No way.”

Like that was a surprise. “Let’s go,” I said to Romeo.

I turned down the path with Romeo and walked right into Christos.

“Christos!” I was so happy to see him. “What are you doing on campus?”
 

“I decided to hit the Rec Center gym. I haven’t worked out in a couple weeks. Needed to blow off some stress,” he smiled as he slid his thumb across my cheek. “More importantly, I knew you’d be coming out of class about the time I finished up.”

I liked the sound of that.

Christos wore a heather-gray hoodie, the hood pulled over his head. The sweatshirt was unzipped, revealing his naked chest and Fearless tattoo, and his stunning abs. He glistened with sweat, sexy as hell.

Yeah, Christos put Hunter to shame in the looks department. Pretty was nice, but ruggedly sexy was ten times better.
 

“Where’s your shirt?” I asked Christos.

“Too hot,” he smirked.

Too hot was right. His blue eyes beamed into my heart. I noticed his jeans rode low on his narrow hips, revealing the tapering wedge of his lower abs. Shiver.
 

“Do you work out dressed like this?” I asked.

“No,” he chuckled. “Too many of the women at the gym were having heart attacks, so the management makes me keep my hoodie zipped while I’m lifting.”

That was my Christos.

“Hey, C-Man,” Romeo said abjectly.

“What up, Romeo,” Christos smiled, obviously happy to see him. “How you been, my man?”

“Oh, uh,” Romeo still sounded distraught after the blow from Hunter. “I’m okay.”

I felt terrible for Romeo. I wasn’t sure what might cheer him up. He was always so energetic and happy, I’d never seen this side of him before. Maybe he needed ice cream. It always worked for me.

“Is this your boyfriend?” Hunter demanded petulantly.

I’d forgotten he was there. Damn. Too bad. “Yes, Hunter, this is my
boyfriend
Christos.”

Christos extended a hand without a second thought. “What up, man. You must be the model from Samantha’s sculpting class?” He was smiling at Hunter. “She says you do good work.”

Hunter stared at Christos’ extended hand, but didn’t shake it. “Yeah, I’m the model.”

I could tell Christos sensed Hunter’s edginess, so he lowered his arm. “Samantha told me you’re a friend of Marjorie Bittinger?”