"And I want those essays in no later than two weeks from today. Come on people, this is five pages. Should be easy for most of you, no breaks on late papers. I don't like being at my office after six as much as you don't want to be here after three." Ben checked his watch and released his class. Tiny pockets of conversation crept up around the room. In the back corner, one student sat by himself.
Ben dismissed his fan club as fast as he could. There was a group of them, not spectacularly capable but altogether dedicated. Ben allowed them to cavort with him normally, but other things were on his mind today. He cleared his throat. "Mr. Penn? Could I see you for a moment please?"
Startled, John packed away the last of his notes and swung his pack over his shoulder, letting the laptop case swing freely at his hips. John made his way forward to the epicenter of the classroom, taking post by the projector. "Yes, Professor Bruckner?"
"You just transferred from Stanford according to your recent transcripts. Why choose Carnegie Mellon to continue your sociology studies?" Ben pushed his reading glasses back upon the bridge of the nose as John composed his answer.
"Just a…change of pace." John shrugged as if moving across country to change classes was as natural as picking one's nose. "Plus, you came highly recommended by a mutual friend at Stanford when I left the history department."
"Ah. Well, I must say that this," Ben held up an essay at the top of a stack sitting near the lectern, "is an excellent cover of the Scarlet Letter from a gay perspective. I know it was a bit of stretch on the assigned topic, but the high marks are still yours."
John blinked, digesting the information and well surprised. "I don't know what to say, Professor. I've been told more often than not that I get far too swept away in prose."
"Well, there's nothing wrong with a bit of passion. Don't doubt your talents, John. This thesis is easily a B senior project grade, well above performance in my standard class." Ben began scribbling something on the back of one of his office cards. "I was wondering if you'd like to join a discussion group I host during my office hours? Voluntarily, of course."
John took the offered card and turned it over in his palms. "I'm flattered Professor, but you don't want me at your group."
"Why not? I don't offer this to every student."
"I know. But, I tend to make waves in small group settings, talk to much, muddle the point. Besides, I'm a Christian and I'm not really gay."
Ben chuckled and looked down at the stack of essays. "You can tell a lot about a person by the way they write, Mr. Penn. Your thoughts are excellent and well conceived. You can easily convey humor and passion in a way I don't see very often among my students. I think the discussion would benefit from your admittance to the group. Just think it over?"
Ben extended a hand, which was gratefully received by Mr. Penn. John thought it strange that a spark hit him when they shook. Must be a static charge in the room, John thought as he exited the empty auditorium.
John began to roam the unfamiliar streets of Pittsburgh. His day was complete, his mind finally free to wander where it would. Pittsburgh, John thought. Less crowded than Boston, cooler weather than Los Angeles, and an underground culture equal to that of Houston. At least, that's what his friends in San Diego had relayed when he had inquired. And then there was Professor Ben Bruckner.
Several events happened at once while John mulled Ben's offer in his mind. A sharp wind cut across his cheek, a vague leftover from winter. His Irish red hair moved with it, spiking naturally. John's stomach growled and his phone began beeping. At first, the alien sound didn't quite register. Then John saw his flashing calendar icon and began looking around for a place to sit, eat, and open his Bible for a while.
"You lost, Red?" John glanced from the Psalms and his eyes met a waitress with wild red hair piled in a way that he was reminded of a strawberry shortcake he had bought once during a festival in Ohio. Her nametag proclaimed that she was Debbie and the rest of the outfit screamed proud P-Flag parent.
John shook his head. "Pretty sure I'm not. This is a diner, correct?"
"Well, yeah. But we just don't get many of you Bible types in here."
"I'm always missing the memos."
"What can I get for ya, Red?"
John checked his phone. When was the last time he had eaten? "Okay, how about a couple of eggs over easy, some crispy bacon, hash browns…. am I hungry enough for pancakes?" He made a face trying to calculate just how hungry he really was.
"Eat much today?"
"I had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich about six." John squinted and leaned in to read one of Debbie's pins.
"In the morning? Honey, doesn't that Bible of yours teach you to eat any?"
John smiled and shrugged. "I get swept away sometimes."
Debbie's smile filled with just a touch of concern. "I've got it. I'll be bringing you the butch bottom special. It'll just be a few minutes."
John muttered and shook his head, returning to the Psalms. "Well, life is supposed to be a buffet and we to eat, eat, eat! At least, that's how I think the quote went."
Debbie turned from the food window. "You sure you ain't gay, Red? Can't remember the last Bible totter I met who could quote Mame."
John stretched his arms over the booth. "When in Rome…" It struck John that the man who came barreling into the diner next was one of the cutest he had ever seen.
"Ma?"
Debbie moved closer to him from the coffee machine. "What's wrong?"
"I just got swamped with weekly inventory and I realized I hadn't had time to make lunch this morning. Can I get a BLT to go real quick? With some fries?"
"Sure hon., no problem. Just grab a seat. The comics ain't just gonna jump off the shelves and disappear you know."
"Ma, I'm in a hurry."
"Hey! I'm in a hurry too. If you haven't noticed, this isn't exactly leisure time at the diner either. And introduce yourself to the new kid." Debbie pointed in John's direction with her elbow and he pretended not to notice she had.
Michael sighed and turned in his counter seat to face John, whose smile was half-hidden by a momentary thirst for coffee. "You wouldn't be smiling so much if she was your mother."
"She's got a big heart."
"And a bigger mouth."
John set his coffee cup down with a clink on the table. "I think she's endearing, a real character. You don't get much of that these days. John, John Penn."
Michael shook his head and smiled, hopping from the stool to take the extended hand. "Michael Novotny. Nice to meet you." John nodded in return. "What is that you're reading? Not a very popular book on Liberty Avenue."
John turned pages of the Bible for effect. "Not very popular anywhere these days. But it helps me collect my thoughts and calms me between rounds of studying and writing for my sociology degree."
Michael slid into the booth opposite of John. "That why you moved to Pittsburgh?"
John smiled. "That, and the fact that it was way cheaper here than living near Stanford. And Professor Bruckner's class is by far one of the most stimulating lecture formats I've had in years."
"Ben's class?" Michael's eyes lit up at the prospect of talking with one of Ben's students. He rarely got the chance to hear accounts of the classroom from Ben, who understandably preferred to leave it at the office.
John leaned in, clearly delighted. "You know Professor Bruckner?"
Debbie appeared with a brown bag in one fist, dots of grease around the bottom half. In the other she held a large plate brimming with hash browns and eggs. "Well, you two look like you're a having a good time. Find something you had in common?"
John's voice cracked with merriment. "You might say that."
Michael cursed and then hopped from the seat, grabbing his sandwich. "My inventory! Look, I really want to continue this conversation, but I'm swamped. Feel free to stop by the comic book shop anytime. Can you give him directions, ma?"
"Directions? Sweetie, I have maps printed out in the back." Debbie put her hand on her hip as Michael pecked her cheek with a kiss. "Love ya, ma. And it was nice to meet you." Michael turned his gaze to John briefly and then barreled out the door at near top speed.
The bell dinged several times and Debbie looked back at the window. "Oh! Rest of your order's up, Red. I'll be right back."
John looked down at his plate and then back at Debbie. "Say, Debbie? Is there anything on this menu that doesn't come in the butch bottom special?"
Twilight was approaching by the time John rolled himself out of the diner. Of course, in early spring Pittsburgh it was hard to tell. But across town, Ben was humming a happy tune to himself as he studied on his couch. Twilight was easily his favorite time of the day. The normal shade of periwinkle grey in the sky matched the mischievous twinkle that came over Michael's eyes as he ripped Ben's shirt off.
The familiar sound of key turning lock assaulted the silent apartment and Ben smiled. Michael bounded over to the couch. "Do you want to hear something really funny?"
Ben leaned over and kissed Michael. After Michael had finally broken the kiss and slid next to him on the couch, Ben approached the topic. "So? You were telling me something funny that happened today?"
"Right. Well, it's not really hilarious. More ironic than anything really." Ben chuckled and shook his head, wondering if Michael would be bringing himself to a point soon. "Anyway, someone came into the diner today who knows you. A student."
Ben cocked his head. "I have lots of students sweetie."
"Oh, but this one's different. He claims you've got a fan club all the way to Stanford."
"John Penn?"
"I think that was his name. He called you Professor Bruckner."
"Oh?" Ben's eyes followed Michael as he moved over to the bedroom doorway and stood with his arms crossed.
"Yeah. And you know, I've always wondered what it would be like to call you professor."
Ben closed his book and got up, vaulting over to where Michael was. There was a growl of pleasure in his throat as he kissed Michael for a second time, this time deeper and longer than the last. Michael felt his lover's pulse as hand met skin. Ben whispered in Michael's ear. "I've never fucked a student before."
"First time for everything." There was that twinkle in Michael's eye that Ben loved.
"Guess I'm going to have to repeal that policy."
"I'm going to repeal you of your clothing." With that, Michael grinned.
