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?”