Page 14 of The Alpha Experiment
We followed the plan, and the rest of the weekend flew by in a blur of coffee and sticky notes. I finished the Chem 101 midterm, finally, and then moved on to intro genetics—which wasn’t as difficult, ironically, because I could write it with a little faith in my students’ ability to read.
I had that one done and dusted just in time, at the stroke of three A.M. on Monday morning, and slumped back in my chair with a sigh. Colin glanced up from his phone and shot me an encouraging smile. He’d been sprawled on the couch all night, and his half-drunk beer sat next to him, on top of the pizza box on the coffee table. I’d opted to work at home so that Colin didn’t need to hang around my office being bored and distracting me.
Earlier on Sunday, just for fun, I’d sent Meredith a picture of Colin along with my update text.
She had sent one of those goggle-eyed emojis and then complained, at length, about my choice to keep Colin at home instead of hanging around the office being bored and distracting us. I couldn’t help laughing, and then I’d had to make something up to explain why, since Colin wouldn’t stop trying to read over my shoulder.
I uploaded the final file so I could print it off at school in the morning—ugh, later in the morning, and not that much later—and staggered up from my seat at the little table by the kitchen area that I used as a desk.
“Done?” Colin asked hopefully.
“Yeah. I’m crashing out and getting out of your way.” I shut my laptop and stretched, my t-shirt riding up. Colin raised his eyebrows and stared at my midsection. Yeah, I knew I didn’t have a six-pack, thank you. “You have everything you need?”
“Congrats.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “And yeah, for sure.” He waved at the pillow and blanket crumpled at the other end of the couch. “You grab the bathroom first. I’ll wash up in a few.”
I rounded the end of the couch on my way to the bathroom. The couch was too damn small to fit Colin, and I thought again of offering him my bed. But that wasn’t much bigger, I wouldn’t fit on the couch either, and it just felt weird. Colin didn’t qualify as a guest, and he’d probably be offended if I treated him like one.
We could always share.The thought came out of nowhere, and I shook my head at the stupidity of it. Yeah, we’d crashed out together before, but in a single bed? I’d have to sleep on top of him. Or wrapped around each other.
Whatever. I could figure out the longer-term sleeping arrangements later; two nights on my shitty couch wouldn’t kill him, but I might die if I didn’t sleep a little before I gave two midterms.
I fell asleep before Colin even got up to brush his teeth.
The next morning passed in just as much of a blur as the weekend had, only this time it was coffee and staplers; the department office’s main printer had broken, and I had to staple everything by hand. My wrist ached as much as my head by the time I finally handed out the Chem 101 test and dropped into a chair at the front of the lecture hall, my eye sockets throbbing in time to the flickering of the overhead fluorescents.
Colin had scoped out the room in advance, declared it clear of threats, and settled down outside in the hallway to play Candy Crush and keep an eye out. With his baseball cap turned forward to hide his too-old-for-college face, his ripped jeans and battered sneakers, and the faded backpack he’d rummaged out of my closet to carry around for the day, he blended right in, sitting on the floor with his legs stretched out. Like any frat boy wasting time between exams.
It made me think of those cheesy movies where the President’s kid goes to college, trailed by Secret Service agents dressed like students.
In short, I felt like I had a big neon sign over my head saying ‘pretentious, paranoid asshole.’
Of course, you couldn’t be paranoid if they really were after you. That thought pushed my headache out from behind my eyes and into my temples. I wondered if the students could see the veins there pulsing every time they looked up from their tests.
The minute hand on the wall clock seemed to have stopped moving, but finally, finally it dragged its way to the hour. With a chorus of groans and rustling, my students brought up their tests, mumbled various complaints under their breath, and filed out.
Didn’t look like my Hail Mary pass to be a more popular professor had worked, after all.
Colin gamely ambled along with me to my genetics midterm, repeating the check-the-room-and-wait routine.
And at last, at long freaking last, those tests were in, the students were gone, and I was free until Thursday, when I’d have the Chem 102 tests to give.
Oh joy.
“I’m going to go get groceries,” Colin said as I dragged my way up the stairs to my apartment behind him. Groceries. Food? My stomach rumbled, and Colin laughed. Alpha hearing. It never got old. “I can see you’re on the same page, dude. Okay. Don’t leave the apartment while I’m gone, keep the door locked, don’t answer if someone knocks, and answer me the second I call out when I come in. I’ll be back in half an hour.”
He opened the apartment door and insisted on clearing all the rooms before I could go inside, seeming to get as much fun out of my impatience as he did satisfaction from a job well done.
Jesus, alphas.
Colin stepped out of my bedroom with a nod and tossed my keys up, snatching them out of the air obnoxiously. “Half an hour. And yes,” he said as I opened my mouth, “I’ll get more coffee. And peanut butter.”
“I don’t think I have any cash, but you can take my debit—”
“La la la,” Colin called out, his voice drifting up the stairs along with his receding footsteps. I blinked. How the hell had he gotten out that fast? “Can’t hear you!”
“Yes you can!” I shouted. “You have bat ears!”
“Shut the door and lock it!” he shouted back.
