Four days had passed since Lucas had slammed the door to Mark's apartment, leaving his friend completely baffled. In that time, new rumors had begun to spread through the university hallways, but they concerned nothing other than the fact that Lucas Valdés had gone through about six partners in those few days.

The old wooden gazebo in the far corner of the university courtyard served as the perfect setting for him. Here, surrounded by yellowing maple trees and a light, piercing autumn breeze, he sat on a wide bench, like a king on an improvised throne, surrounded by his trusted subjects. The air smelled of leaves scorched by the bright May sun and expensive tobacco smoke, which he lazily exhaled into the gray sky, pointedly ignoring the no-smoking sign.

His usual entourage hung out next to him. Mark and Danny exchanged a couple of lazy phrases, but all the attention in this makeshift box belonged to Mia. The girl with neon lips and a predatory gleam in her eyes had once again taken her favorite spot. She brazenly spread her knees, leaning her whole body forward, and clearly craved confirmation of her power over him, that very attention he so generously doled out to everyone around him, but not to her.

"Lucas, are you even listening to me?" she drawled, playfully tapping his knee with her long manicured nails and slowly moving her hand higher up his thigh.

"Could you repeat that?"

"I'm saying that Friday's party is going to be absolutely incredible. Are you coming?"

"Yeah, why not."

Lucas slowly turned his head toward her. His face was adorned with that same captivating, predatory half-smile that made many people's knees go weak. He reached out and, with a sudden, almost rough possessive force, gripped the back of her neck, pulling her face dangerously close to his. Mia gasped, her pupils instantly dilating at the unexpected display of dominance.

"You're trying so hard to get my attention, it's actually touching," he murmured, his thumb slowly, almost hypnotically, tracing the line of her jaw. "I think your efforts will soon pay off, darling."

Mia exhaled contentedly, completely absorbed by his charm, but Lucas had already looked away, releasing her with the same suddenness with which he'd pulled her close. There wasn't a shred of genuine interest in his dark eyes. His roles as womanizer, cynic, and heartbreaker were approaching the point of no return - boredom.

"Hey, are you okay?" Mark asked quietly, leaning closer while Mia was distracted by her friend, adjusting her rumpled blouse. "You seem… a little off."

"I'm perfectly fine, my friend," Lucas replied, taking one last drag and stubbing out his cigarette on the wooden railing of the gazebo with a defiant nonchalance. "It's just that everything is becoming meaningless."

Mark snorted, clearly not buying this sudden epiphany. "Since when did you start talking about meaninglessness? Just yesterday you were suggesting we skip our seminars to go go-karting and get drunk until morning, ignoring any consequences."

"Plans have a way of changing drastically," Lucas retorted, glancing at his expensive watch. He jumped up from the bench, causing Mia to let out a disgruntled cry and reach out to grab his leather jacket sleeve.

"I'm sorry, beauty and freaks, but I have to run," he said, gently but with iron determination freeing his wrist from her tenacious grip. "I have a matter that requires my immediate and utmost attention."

"What kind of business?" Mia pouted, clearly unaccustomed to such abrupt and blunt refusals.

"Academic," he tossed over his shoulder, heading for the courtyard exit without looking back at his friends' stunned faces. 
Mark choked on his coffee, watching his friend's receding figure. He had never heard Lucas say the word "academic" without biting, destructive irony.

"I think he got someone pregnant."

Danny's sharp words silenced everyone.
But a second later, everyone was sharing their thoughts.

"Yeah, or his parents are rewriting the will."

"I think he went to a casino for the first time and lost it all."

"How much did he have to bet, then?"

"Bankrupt."

***

The faculty lounge smelled of burnt coffee and old paper. Adrian stood by the coffee machine, watching as a dark stream filled his porcelain mug. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to go home.

“...and I must admit, it was the best essay I’ve heard in the last fifteen years,” the voice of Professor Laurent, head of the Romance Languages Department, interrupted his thoughts.

Adrian turned politely. Laurent was sitting at a round table, waving the printed essay. “Who are we talking about, Jean-Pierre?” asked the history professor, stirring her tea. “Lucas Valdes,” Laurent replied with genuine admiration. “I plan to submit his application for the interstate French competition in Boston.” I know he’s the most… let’s just say, problematic student in your department. But his linguistic abilities are phenomenal.

“Aren’t his parents from outside the U.S.?”

“Yes, his mother is French, and his father is Spanish.”

Adrian froze, the mug half-filled with coffee frozen in his hand. Lucas? Does that very same boy know anything in this world besides Kamasutra positions? Cognitive dissonance struck him in the temples. Adrian frowned. 
For a split second, a beautiful image of the guy flashed through Adrian’s mind.

I wonder why he rejected me so abruptly? What is he doing now?
Enough, Adrian told himself, taking a sip of scalding coffee. Well, great, at least I avoided a headache.

“Sounds impressive,” Adrian said in a calm, professional tone. “But an interstate trip requires an escort.” It’s the middle of finals week; everyone’s swamped with exams.

Lauren sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “That’s exactly the problem. I can’t leave my class; I have thirty final papers to grade. Mrs. Hayes is swamped with grading, too.”
A pause hung in the room. Then the history professor turned her gaze to Adrian.

Oh no, fuck. Well, good for you, you brought this up yourself.

“Adrian,” she began softly but firmly. “You’ve already covered all the main modules in your ethics course, haven’t you? You don’t have any seniors left, just tests for freshmen that can be graded in a couple of hours.”

Adrian felt a chill run down his spine. He knew where the conversation was headed. “I have personal plans for next week,” he began, trying to make his voice sound firm.

“The competition is scheduled for two weeks from now.”

“Oh, did I say next week? I got it mixed up, two weeks from now.”

“Plans can be changed,” the dean interrupted, suddenly appearing in the doorway with a folder in his hands. He smiled that broad, meaningless smile that always foreshadowed trouble. “This is a great opportunity for you, Adrian. To prove yourself as a mentor. Besides, you and Lucas are roughly the same age.” It’ll be easier for you two to hit it off on the road than it is for Jean-Pierre with his sciatica. You’ll be able to keep him in check.

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” Adrian tried to object, gripping his mug so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Student Valdes is known for his… peculiar behavior.”

“All the more reason he needs a firm but young authority figure,” the dean parried, setting the folder on the table. “I’ve already checked the schedule. Your availability allows for this. I’ll sign the travel authorization today. Thank you, Adrian, you’re really helping us out. The matter is settled.”

Adrian opened his mouth to object, but the words stuck in his throat. Any further protest on his part would look not just like a refusal to help his colleagues, but like something personal. He didn’t want to arouse any suspicion. In an academic environment where a reputation is built over decades and destroyed by a single scandal, he was backed into a corner.

He exhaled slowly, feeling his usual control slip from his grasp. “Of course,” Adrian said, his voice sounding alarmingly even. “I’ll take care of it.”