Of course, any amusement faded when David ushered me into his office, closed the door, and whirled on me. “What the devil has gotten into you? Are you trying to make my life here a living hell?”
The fuck was this? I thought we’d retreated to his office to do some serious Temperance bashing. I’d never suspected that I might be the bashee.
My neck flamed and I glared back at him. “Right, that’s exactly what I’m doing—making other asshats act homophobic just so I can make your life a living hell.”
David reared back a bit from me, his expression registering alarm before his mouth twitched. “Asshats? Really?”
His amusement only stoked the flames of my anger, until my hands clenched into fists. “Honestly, that ties right in with what I wanted to talk to you about,” he continued. “There’s a discreet, mature way to deal with this situation, and then there’s the bullheaded way that you’ve decided to address it, just putting your head down and charging.”
“Discreet, mature way…?” I hated the way my voice pitched high at the end, but, seriously? “I’m sorry, please, feel free to educate me on the discreet, mature way to tackle homophobic fuckwads. I’m all ears.”
Yeah, I made air quotes when I repeated discreet and mature. I wasn’t proud of it. But David’s pompous assurance grated against my skin.
“That’s exactly what I mean! You can’t go around calling people…fuckwads, is it? Just because you disagree with them.”
I threw my hands in the air and stomped across his floor. “Actually, I totally can call them fuckwads. Or asshats, Or douchecanoeing, toad-dicked chucklefucks. Are you kidding me right now with this? It’s not like I’m disagreeing about the weather here! They want to yank my education grant because of who I choose to date!”
David listened and sipped his tea. His tea! Like we were at some fucking tea party and not in the middle of a serious fight. “And what would you have me do? Stomp around and call people ridiculous—although admittedly creative names? I’m not sure that’s the most constructive way to deal with this, are you?”
I was this close to tearing my hair out. “Constructive? I don’t give a fuck about constructive right now! I’m venting, okay? This sucks. Ugh.”
I collapsed into a chair. When David spoke this time, his tone was soft. “I’m sorry, Seb. I understand how unsettling that must be…but that doesn’t change the fact that you won’t get the outcome you desire by yelling ‘discrimination’ at people. The higher-ups at Temperance expect a certain amount of decorum. You have to finesse your way into getting what you want.”
He said this like it was one-hundred percent reasonable to expect of me. I didn’t even bother to look up. I couldn’t. “I can’t believe you’re asking me to basically chill and, you know, go grab a cup of tea with one of these homophobic assholes and have a nice chat.”
David sighed. “That’s the way things are done here.”
Why? Why wasn’t he seeing my point? How could he stand there and be so complacent about this? It was his life, too.
The idea hit me like a brick out of nowhere. Unless…maybe he just didn’t care that much about the thought of us breaking up. I mean, he’d been opposed from the very beginning. I’d practically had to guilt him into giving our relationship a try.
This was an easy out for him.
The anger faded away until all that was left was a crushing pain, deep beneath my ribs. “Well, the way things are done here sucks,” I said.
Then I turned and walked out of his office, proud of the fact that I didn’t break into a run. He called after me once, but I ignored him.
It hurt too much to look at him any longer today.
10
David
“We can’t have that kind of disruption in our institution, David, you know that. You need to have a chat with your little…friend,” the dean’s pitch changed enough over that last word to make my hands clench, “and let him know how extremely inappropriate and disappointing his behavior and allegations are. We take pride in our high moral standards here. It’s all in the code of conduct. If he had issues with that, then maybe he should have chosen a different university.”
His gray eyes looked frosty behind his designer glasses. Meanwhile my own nerves were starting to fray.
“Seb is a graduate student here.” I spoke slowly. Careful to enunciate every word. “If anyone should come under fire, it’s me. I’m the tenured professor—so if there’s to be any punishment, I insist that you levy it on me.”
Our gazes clashed across the desk, both of us ramrod straight in our chairs. Neither of us blinking, like a game of chicken. One I’d be damned if I was going to lose. The dean was the first to look away. “I don’t know that you’re in any position to insist anything right now, David. You do realize that you’re on thin ice?”
“Yes, of course.” I did, and the fact that I wasn’t nearly so bothered by that realization as I should be concerned me far more than the actual threat itself. If I were a full-time author, I wouldn’t have to deal with this nonsense. I’d have control over what I published. No more answering to smug academics and fretting about when I’d get my next article published.
“Well, then, that’s progress, I suppose. What are we going to do about it?”
I gritted my teeth. We. I hated when people used we in that way. So patronizing. Like I was a toddler that the dean needed to coach along.
Something Brian had said niggled at my brain, about how the university wouldn’t care if Seb was a woman. In fact, hadn’t that situation arisen a couple of years ago? I’d heard talk in the rumor mill of a female grad student and a professor forming a romantic relationship. Only, if the rumor mill had their facts straight, that professor was from her department, and did oversee her studies. I’d been busy on a project at the time, but I was relatively certain that no one had forced them to break up.
“David?” The dean prodded, rapping his knuckles on the desk to signify his impatience.
“What am I going to do?” The idea didn’t materialize until that precise moment, when I was picturing the look of hurt and disappointment on Seb’s face, right before he fled my office. “I’ll tell you—-if you follow through with this short-sighted need to punish Seb and me for our relationship, I’m going to contact some of my high-profile friends, so that they can get the news out to the public about how Temperance University might play lip service to tolerance but when it comes right down to it, they’re just as bigoted as any other conservative Christian school.”
For once in his life, the dean looked like someone had caught him off guard. He blanched, and his mouth opened and closed like a fish while he sputtered. “You…I…Temperance…” Above his collar, his neck turned this mottled red. He opened his mouth again, but I held up a hand.
“I suggest you give yourself time to carefully consider your words before you speak,” I said silkily. His nostrils flared at that, but he stopped and took several deep breaths before continuing.
“Right. Well. I think it might be for the best if we end this meeting here for the moment.”