“Wh-what’s going on here? Who are you?”
I take my time and stand from the chair, giving him a moment to register my full size. The flash of the gun I carry in the holster under my arm. The size of my fists.
I saunter around the desk. “I’m here to discuss one of your graduate students with you.”
“Wh-who is it? What is this about?”
“Why did you pass Caitlin West over for the TA position you promised her?”
His face crinkles into scorn. “Caitlin? She’s crazy.”
And that’s all it takes. My fist slams into his nose and he slams into the wall. “Say it again,” I challenge, fisting his shirt to pick him up from where he slumped down to the floor. “Go on. Call her crazy to my face. I’ll fucking show you crazy.”
Blood gushes down his face, spills over my hands. “I-I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, I swear! She’s a nice girl. Real sweet. Just a little… unique, is all. Is she your girlfriend or something?”
“Something,” I say, slamming him back against the wall. “Now you listen to me. You’re gonna give Caitlin that TA job she deserves, or I’m gonna break every bone in both your hands. Capiche?”
“I-I-I can’t give her the job, I already gave it to someone else.”
“Yeah, I heard that. You’re gonna take it back. Or I’ll get rid of him and it’ll be on your head. Got it?”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it.”
“By tomorrow, and don’t tell anyone—including Caitlin—about this conversation we’re having.”
“I won’t. Okay, I got it.”
“And if you ever disrespect that girl again, I will fucking kill you. Understand?”
“I understand. I won’t disrespect her. Please.”
I punch him once more in the gut to make sure he gets the message before I release him.
I stalk out, still pissed as hell.
Fucking stronzo—calling Caitlin crazy. People are so fucking stupid if they can’t see that’s all a big act to make sure people underestimate her. It’s her way of controlling her surroundings from a position of weakness. Some survival skill she probably had to learn after her dad died, if not before.
Caitlin
The first thing I did when Paolo dropped me home was go over and see Trevor. Paolo was right. He hadn’t noticed anyone watching him. Didn’t even register that I hadn’t checked in.
I debated telling him what happened, but I decided not to worry him. He’s happy. He’s almost like a normal college student, partying and hooking up with girls and having fun. His existence has been different from mine. We got separated into different foster families. His adopted him. They were decent. He’s turned out normal.
I don’t want to disturb that.
So I go on.
Only everything’s different now.
I’m different.
I keep thinking about Paolo. Wondering if I should’ve played anything differently. If I made a mistake having sex with him. The old me would’ve beat myself up for my crazy. Wondered when I’m ever going to be normal. Not turn to sex and pain to get through stressful situations.
New me can’t find it in me to condemn myself. I don’t feel dirty or cheap or used.
I feel satisfied. Satisfied enough to wonder at least ten times a day if I’ll ever see Paolo again. If he’s into having sex or scening with me again. Maybe meeting up at the BDSM dungeon. Or at his place.
And I keep replaying his offer. The way we left things. That I could call in a favor if I needed one. And he didn’t give me his phone number or anything, but I’m a hacker. I could find it easily enough.
But all those thoughts are pretty pointless when I remember that any day now the FBI could show up at my door to arrest me.
I go into my graduate advisor, Dr. Alden’s office after he left me a message saying he needed to meet with me.
The minute I see him a flood of hot and cold rush through me. Both his eyes are black and there’s tape across his nose.
Paolo’s been here.
Oh my God.
I should feel guilty, but I guess I’m immoral enough that I don’t. All I feel is vindicated.
And something else—some part of me is celebrating.
Paolo does care.
“What happened?” I try to make my voice sound normal.
“I ran into the door,” he says in the strained voice that confirms everything.
I pull out a chair and sit down, my heart thudding. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yeah, uh, listen. We had a situation come up. Todd can’t do the TA job anymore and I wanted to see if you could step in. This semester—right away.”
“Oh, uh... yeah. I could do that.” I try to sound surprised, natural. But who am I kidding? We both know what happened here.
“Great. Here’s everything you need.” He pushes a stack of papers across the desk at me. “Be ready to teach tomorrow.”
“All right. I will. Thanks.” I stand.