Kinky Confessions

Then Rosemary took her model to the front of the class. Freddie’s eyes never left her, and she nervously glanced his way several times. Joska clearly wasn’t impressed with her design and said so. Freddie looked murderous but kept his mouth shut. His expression softened when Rosemary looked at him and smiled, and I silently wished them all the happiness in the world.

Gracie was up next. Her model was fine, but her design was atrocious. It was a Russian Revival-style office building with multicolored onion domes and everything. For once I thought she should’ve done something Brutalist instead. She stumbled awkwardly through her presentation and then Joska tore into her.

He finished with a scathing critique, “Not your best work, Miss Fisher,”

and even I felt sorry for her.

He’s known for weeks what she’s been working on, I thought angrily.

Why didn’t he give her some guidance before?

I pulled out a piece of paper and scrawled a note. Joska called my name as I was still writing, so I held up my left hand to forestall him.

“Mr. Hughes,” he said again, more insistent.

“I heard you the first time.” I finished writing, grabbed my model and write-up, and placed them on the table in front of the class. Then I deliberately walked to Gracie’s desk and set the note on top of her model.

Joska frowned. “What is this, Mr. Hughes? Passing notes? Please share with the entire class.”

“You asked for it,” I muttered. Then I spun on my heel, grabbed the paper, and defiantly read aloud, “Forget Joska. He’s just in a pissy mood. I thought it was a great design. Very Revolutionary. Ha ha! Get it?” I ignored Joska and held Gracie’s eyes instead. I set the note on her model once again.

She blinked back tears and looked away to hide them.

I met Joska’s arctic stare and returned it as calmly as I could, even though my heart was racing. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d kicked me out of class then and there. Instead, he looked around and sensed the mood of the room. I was a popular and talented student. At the moment he was a very unpopular professor. Still, he had to reassert his authority.

“We will talk after class, Mr. Hughes.”

“Of course.” I gestured at my model. “May I begin?”

He nodded to say that the floor was mine.

A small part of me wondered if it would be my last presentation for him, but something about impending doom gave me confidence. I nailed it. Even Gracie was nodding along by the time I finished and asked if anyone had questions.

Joska read the room again. They were all on my side and he knew it. He asked a couple of softball questions and then we were done.

“Mr. Ivey,” he said next. “Please share your project with us.”

“Damn,” Freddie said under his breath as I slid into my chair. “That was a blaze of glory.”

“Fuggedaboutit,” I whispered back.

His grin could’ve spanned the Hudson.

I waited after Joska dismissed the class. Freddie and Rosemary were the last to leave, and they walked out together. He gave me a thumbs-up in solidarity before he pulled the door closed.

“What, exactly, do you think you were doing?” Joska said after a moment.

“Standing up for a friend.”

“Miss Fisher? Your loyalty is admirable but hardly appropriate.”

“Your comments were asinine and hardly constructive.”

“I will not be made light of in my own class!”

“I wasn’t ‘making light’ of you. Besides, you were the one who wanted me to read my note in front of the class.” I had him there and he knew it, although it didn’t matter. He was the professor and I was the student; he could do whatever he wanted. But still, I’d scored the point.

“Mr. Hughes, do you think you deserve special treatment because you show promise?”

“Absolutely not. I deserve the same as anyone else. But praise in public, Professor, criticize in private. You broke that rule and you know it.”

“And you did not?”

“I did. So we both need to do better.”

His eyes narrowed at the familiar phrase.

“I’m sorry I criticized you in public,” I said. “I won’t do it again.”

He gave me a hard stare and weighed my future.

I was still feeling surly and defiant, but I didn’t let it show. I’d learned from the best, after all, so I kept my emotions in check as I waited for the proverbial ax to fall.

“See that you don’t,” he said at last. “Good day, Mr. Hughes.”

Christy was on the phone in her old bedroom when I came home. I knew something was wrong as soon as I heard her tone. I eavesdropped for a moment. She was talking to Brooke, so I poked my head in.

“Everything okay?” I asked softly.

She looked startled but shook her head and turned her attention back to

the conversation. I pulled the door closed and headed upstairs to my studio.

She came looking for me about twenty minutes later and surprised me by simply climbing into my lap and curling up.

“Oh, Paul,” she said miserably, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Tell me what’s the matter and we’ll figure it out.”