Page 118 of Boiling Point
He didn’t answer—just set the phone on the coffee table and stalked off toward his office.
I blinked, then leaned over to check the screen. A text from Bill Watkins was still open:
Hey, sorry to bug you while you’re off the grid, but heads-up: Dr. Lemke and Dr. Singh are asking pointed questions, and the rumor mill is flying. You should check your university email. Stat.
I waited a minute. Then another. Curiosity finally corroded my resolve. I trailed after Cal, my pulse thrumming in my ears, the hardwood cool beneath my bare feet. His office door was ajar, just enough to see him hunched at the desk, laptop open, the screen’s blue-white glow carving exhausted shadows into his face.
I hovered just outside the doorway—close enough to see him, far enough to give him space. I folded my arms, knuckles digging into the soft cotton of my sweatshirt, and waited. If Dr. Lemke and Dr. Singh—deans, VPs, or whatever high-level thing they were—were sniffing around, the digital gossip at Page College would have already gone nuclear. I slid my phone from my pocket and opened the only social media app that mattered. I searched for Cal’s name—first, last, full academic honorific—and the results flooded in, each thread more unhinged than the last.
It was Sloane Cartwright’s post, naturally, that set the tone:
—prof hawthorne caught in “close relationship” with a student. paging the ethics committee lmao!
She’d paired it with a GIF of a flaming dumpster rolling downhill. The replies were a demolition derby of snark, thirst, conspiracy, and unholy Photoshop crimes.
—“Close relationship” is doing a LOT of heavy lifting. Girl, blink twice if you’re trapped in a thesis defense with benefits.
—Professor Hawthorne gets extra credit in bed!!
—ikr he’s hot as hell.
—Welp. My tuition’s funding somebody’s sex life, I guess.
—Who’s the lucky bitch!?!?!
—Not me emailing him my quantum physics homework and a nude.
—Someone said “academic rigor,” and Dr. Hawthorne said “bet.”
—I’d risk the honor code for that D.
—Did she call him “sir” before or after the final? Asking for science…
There was a poll—an actual, five-choice poll—on who the “mystery student” could be, with the top vote going to “some grad-student honeytrap.” Nobody had my name. Not yet.
I scrolled with a weird detachment, like it was happening to someone else. The posts spread from the college subforum to the wider university feed, then spilled out to the usual sewage conduits. Someone had screen grabbed Cal’s faculty photo and slapped it beside a screeching tabloid headline. I’d always known the internet was a bonfire. I just never thought I’d be the kindling.
I closed the app, shoved the phone in my pocket, and leaned against the doorjamb. Cal sat rigid at his desk, one hand buried in his hair, the other clicking through screens at lightspeed.
“Is it what I think it is?” I finally asked.
“I won’t insult your intelligence by pretending otherwise.” He spun the laptop to face me, open to an email.
I stepped forward and read.
Subject: Formal Notice of Allegation
From: Dr. Amrita Singh, Vice President of Academic Affairs
To: Dr. Callum Hawthorne
CC: Dr. Michael Lemke, Dean of Students; Ms. Maryann Jennings, Human Resources
Date: May 29
Dr. Hawthorne,
This email serves as formal notice that the Office of Academic Affairs has received an allegation regarding a potential violation of the Faculty Code of Conduct, specificallySection 4.1.3: Improper Relationships with Students.
