Diorama

© Sweet-Kisses™

~*~

Nick held the assignment in his hand and stared at the grade. It was a failing grade, he had failed. He was always a good student. He had never really failed anything that was academic. He didn't understand. He glanced around at the other students in his class and they all seemed satisfied. He didn't see a single disappointed or upset student. Not in the whole lecture theatre.

What the hell was going on here? A personal vendetta?

As the students were exiting the room, Kevin called out after them, "if you have any questions about your grade, see me now or during the designated consultation times."

Nick lingered back and watched his teacher jam papers into his briefcase. He was nervously biting down on his lower lip as took steps closer to Kevin, who had his back toward Nick. "Uh, Kevin? I - "

"Professor Richardson, thank you Mr Carter."

Nick blinked in surprise. He felt stung. "Oh? Well, I was wondering. You failed me on this assignment. I don't understand."

Kevin turned swiftly around after locking his briefcase shut with two clicking sounds. "Read my comments," he said in a low, distant voice.

"You didn't write any comments," Nick replied, shrugging. "That's kind of why I'm asking."

"In that case, let me clarify for you a few problems with the paper." Kevin made eye contact with Nick. When he did, Nick could tell that behind his glasses, his eyes were full of hurt and disappointment. But he also saw anger lurking, too. He felt scared. "The assignment was asking you to critique a classical composition."

"But I did that," Nick said in confusion, "and I quoted one of the best academics on Chopin and - "

"If I wanted his opinion on Chopin, I would've asked for it," Kevin snapped. "The task specifically asked for your opinion, your interpretation. You didn't do that, you didn't do as the task required you to do so you failed."

Nick stood in his place, frozen, his mouth agape. He didn't understand why Kevin was talking to him this way. Or, maybe he did. "Professor, if this has anything to do with...I'm sorry." 

The anger that was lurking within Kevin seem to relent somewhat. "Fine," he said softly, walking toward the door.

"No it's not fine!" Nick called out after him. "I'm messed up! You told me something really true! I don't know what I want. I don't!" He paused. "But that was then. I think...I think I'm ready to continue the singing lessons, to see you."

Kevin stood perfectly still, briefcase in hand, allowing the words to sink in. It was too little, too late. "Good to know," he said and continued walking for the door.

"Wait!" Nick cried, running over to his Professor and grabbing him by the arm. "Can't you just listen to me?"

Kevin pushed Nick away. "You know what? I've had enough of waiting for you and listening to the same thing, over and over again. When I first met you, I thought the whole shy-guy act was cute, endearing. But it's nothing but an act. This whole thing was just a game for you."

"Oh, and it wasn't for you?" Nick replied. "Look how you treated me when I first came here! You wouldn't leave me alone!"

A crooked smile suddenly played at Kevin's lips. "Allow me to now, then."

Nick watched the door close behind his Professor as he left the room. In his anger and frustration, he tore his assignment to shreds, tears rolling down his face.

~**~

Howie was sitting around a black table at a small coffeehouse on campus, accompanied by friends from his business class. As Howie got to talking more and more to them, he had decided that they all had one thing, and one thing alone, in common. That was a business mind and to him, he felt as though he finally had someone that was speaking his language.

A tall blonde male with intense brown eyes shook his head. He was Brad, the son of a real estate mogul. 'New' money, as the expression was. "I disagree. You want to play it smart, you go into the real estate market. You cannot lose. You buy property that's positively geared, you hang on to it for a while, then you sell and you've made yourself a nice chunk of change. You do that for some time, you can build your own condo complex, whatever. Real estate is safe, it's secure."

"You're wrong, Brad," a shorter, red haired male student objected. "And where do you suppose you get that money to invest in that little 'positively geared' pipe-dream? From the parents? No. You want to be safe, you work hard. You save money. You watch the stock market. You invest there. You get a financial planner or broker who can - "

"Run off to Turkey and build casinos with your stolen, hard-earned money." Brad replied sarcastically.

Howie smiled to himself and glanced around the place. As he did, he caught sight of a girl dashing past the coffee house. He recognised her in an instant. "Excuse me." He dashed out of the coffee house. "Liz! Liz, wait! Where's the fire?"

Liz spun around, tears streaking her face, her hair in a mess. "Howie, what a coincidence! I was, uh - "

"What the hell happened to you?" Howie cried, looking in horror at the bruise on her cheek. He stepped closer to her for a more careful examination and gently touched the bruise. "How did this happen?"

Liz was shaking as she spoke, her hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of her creased shirt. "Oh, that? I'm such a klutz! I was in the bathroom this morning and, well, the floor? It was wet and I - "

"Jesus Christ, Liz, I'm smarter than that," Howie said sternly. "It's the oldest line in the goddamn book! Why are you crying?"

Liz took one step back and eyed him angrily. "I don't have to explain anything to you! I told you what happened, and it's the truth!"

"So why are you so upset by telling the truth?" Howie asked softly.

She didn't answer for a long moment and brushed tears away from her face. "It's...it's not what you think," she whispered.

"Then what is it?" When she shook her head, Howie sighed. "Alright, don't tell me. But at least come back to my room and fix yourself up."

Liz shook her head wildly again. "No, no. I can't. I really have to - "

"I'm your friend, and you need that right now."

Liz finally agreed and soon they were sitting on the sofa in his room after she had fixed herself up and held a small icepack on her cheek. "You okay now?"

Liz nodded. "Yes, thank you. Thank you for everything. You're a sweetheart."

"Welcome." He paused and shifted to face her properly. "So how did you meet Michael?"

"It's a long story," Liz sighed. "We grew up together. His family is old friends with my family. When we started dating, I thought he was a decent guy. Over-protective, perhaps, but decent. So when he asked me to marry him, I said yes."

"But do you love him?" Howie asked. "You know, is he your soul mate? How do you know so young?"

"He's from a good family, a wealthy family. He'll provide well for me."

Howie shrugged. "Sounds like a match made in heaven. Lets take a look at the bruise." He gently took away the icepack. "Looks a lot better now.

"Oh, good."

He then cupped her chin in his hand and kissed her gently. She returned the kiss for several moments until she realised exactly what she was doing. "We're friends, Howie, that's it. Please don't try that again. I'm engaged."

"How can you marry someone that's beating you?" Howie blurted out strongly.

Liz jumped to her feet. "That's a fucking strong accusation! He doesn't beat me up, okay? I wouldn't let him!"

"Oh of course," Howie said sarcastically. "He doesn't beat you up. We'll just wait until he beats you to an inch of your life before we start hurling accusations, shall we?"

The tension in the air could've been cut with a knife. Her eyes were on her feet as she spoke. "He's not hurting me. You're my friend. That's as far as we go. See you 'round."

~***~

Alex had cleared the air between himself and his four friends. He knew he had crossed the line and he said so himself. He apologised, and they had accepted. While things were still a little strained with them, Alex felt a large weight being lifted off his shoulders.

But there was still a problem he had to fix.

Anna.

He had waited nearly half the day at her door, waiting for her to return. When she did, Alex jumped to his feet. She didn't looked overjoyed to see him as she fished the keys to her room out of her bag. "Alex, I thought I made it quite clear - "

"Anna, just listen to me," Alex said quickly, manoeuvring himself in front of her. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for what I did. I know that it was wrong, but I needed the money to stay here! I needed the money so I could still be here with you and - "

Anna shook her head. "No, you didn't. Alex, you didn't need the money that badly to betray my trust. That should be worth more."

He paused and looked away. "You know why I want to stay here so badly? So badly that I'll do anything? Because of you. it's because of you that I want to stay here. If I flunk out, I know I won't be good enough for you and you'll realised that, too. You won't love a drop-out, a failure from the wrong side of the tracks. You deserve so much more than that. I want to be the best I can be for you! I'm trying so hard here and I - "

"Oh, stop it," Anna interrupted, pushing him out of the doorway and unlocking the door. "I need some time to think about this."

Alex felt a small glimmer of hope.

~****~