His eyes darted back and forth and his nerves made sense. Thomas had been trying for a year and a half to ask me out, but he'd never gotten up the courage. We were friends and I never encouraged him past that. Now he was warning me as a friend, but also as a jealous rival. Thomas couldn't stand the idea of Professor Bauer getting close to me when he wasn't.
"Thanks, Thomas," I patted his arm and walked away.
"I'll see you at the football game tonight?" he called.
I waved over my shoulder and kept walking. Our class was meeting at the football game to practice capturing quick details and to try the fast pace of sports journalism.
It was just my luck that when I arrived at the game, the only available seat was right next to Ford. I had intended to spend the whole game thinking of ways to insulate myself against gossip, but now with Ford cheering beside me, my good intentions were scattering.
"More important than the game is the crowd," Ford told me and the students near us. "The reader is one of the cheering fans, so it's important to them to know how the real fans reacted in the stands. Look around and take note of what you see."
"I see Professor Appleyard in face paint," I said.
Ford looked where I pointed and burst out laughing. "You've got a good eye for details, Dunkirk," he said.
It was casual, and none of the other students even noticed, but I felt his thigh bump against mine as if an explosion had rocked the entire set of bleachers. I had to find a way to put some serious distance between us.
After the game, Ford led us onto the field to interview the players. The players had been prepped by their coach and it was a learning opportunity for them too. That didn't explain why the players jostled each other to answer my questions, but Ford put an end to that quickly.
"Why don't you talk to Brian Tailor? You met his father at the art opening, remember?" Ford asked me.
"The star running back?" Thomas asked. "I have questions for him."
Ford frowned, but before he could steer me in another direction, the quarterback appeared in front of me.
"Hi, I'm Adam," he said with a charming smile.
I smiled back, despite Ford's gunmetal glance. "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions, Adam?"
"If you answer one for me first," the quarterback said. "Would you go out with me tomorrow night?"
His teammates cat-called, and the nearest ones landed punches on his shoulder, but Adam kept smiling at me with his bright-blue, hopeful eyes. He was perfect.
Ford hovered near by and a few of my journalism classmates whispered about the look on his face.
"I'd love to, Adam." I squashed the rumors, shut down my own inappropriate feelings for a professor, and accepted a date all in one sentence. "Now, how about that interview?"
CHAPTER FOUR
Ford
I met Jackson outside the bar and waited while he made kissing noises into his phone.
"Sorry, I haven't seen Alice all day," he said. He dropped his phone into his pocket and opened the swinging door of the bar.
I patted my friend's shoulder as I went inside. "That's alright, 'cause you're buying."
We both stopped immediately inside the door and scanned the room for students. Landsman College was in the midst of a smaller outlying town and the chances of running into students was high everywhere I went. Normally it was fine, fun even, but tonight I wanted to drink.
Seeing only a few quiet couples and scattered regulars, Jackson and I found seats at the bar. The standing lamps mixed in amongst the shelves of booze was almost the only light in the place. Weak lightbulbs encased in dusty, red, glass shades hung over us with barely enough glow to light a bowl of peanuts.
I felt the knots in my shoulders finally start to loosen. "Beer and a shot," I ordered.
Jackson handed the bartender his credit card and ordered a beer. "Was the blind date really that bad?" he asked.
The bartender chuckled as he moved over to the taps. I caught his sympathetic glance and nodded. "What made me think going on any date in front of students was a good idea?" I wondered.
"Alice thought she was fun, might break you out of your perpetual bad mood," Jackson said.
"Since when is fun discussing the details of a pet iguana's eating habits?" I picked up the beer the bartender passed me and took a long, grateful gulp. "At full volume in the middle of an art opening?"
"I thought she was at least pretty." Jackson clacked his pint glass against mine.
"Yes, in a bright, cartoonish sort of way. She didn't let me get a single word in between the iguana, her bathroom grout, and plans to host a karaoke Christmas."
My friend choked on his beer. "Yeah, Alice warned me that Tara was really into karaoke. I just figured you wanted the fun of meeting someone knew. I didn't think you'd be singing duets or anything."
"Singing duets?" The thought was horrifying. The openly laughing bartender poured us both a shot of whiskey.
I knocked it back neat and smiled. "Did I tell you Dean Dunkirk's daughter saved me? She had questions about class and suggested I meet with all the journalism students before they left."
Jackson gave me a curious, sideways glance. "Saved you from a blind date?"
"Not like that," I shook my head. Why had I told Jackson about Clarity? "Besides, I thought you liked to be up on campus gossip. She's dating the star quarterback."
Jackson breathed a sigh of relief and started talking football. All I could think about was Clarity smiling up at that young jock. Adam was tall, with black hair and blue eyes. Was that Clarity's type? I ran a hand through my own wild, black hair and scowled.
"I know what's bothering you," Jackson said.
I took another long sip of beer. "I doubt it."
"You want to get back into journalism. You never wanted to leave. And now your department head is breathing down your neck, you took on the student paper to appease her, and it's only made you miss the real thing."
"Macken doesn't bother me," I said.
"God, how can she not? I'm not even in your department and that woman frightens me." Jackson leaned his elbows on the bar. "She's had you on unofficial probation since you started. Doesn't that drive you insane?"
I ground my teeth and finished half my beer. "You and I both know I deserve to be on probation."
"One accidental indiscretion your first year does not make you the scourge of the School of Journalism. There was no complaint, no proof, and it was one-time thing. Macken needs to find a new hobby," Jackson said.
It was more than once. Just one unforgivable week. I crushed a peanut against the polished wood of the bar. "At least we have a winning football team this year. Not that I think the sun shines out our quarterback's ass. He's good, but too showy, and it's gonna cost the team. The star running back, Carl, on the other hand. He's got his head on straight."
Jackson swiveled on his bar stool to study my face. "Not a fan of the quarterback, huh? I've got him in class and he's a good guy."
I snorted, thinking about the special considerations college football players thought came with their talent. "Wait 'till you try to give him an honest grade."