Page 81 of Hushed

“They can’t do this,” Levi says. “We met before the semester.”

“They can, and they did. That’s what at-will contracts mean.” I feel so tired. It’s 6:30 in the morning. I should go back to bed. Instead, I mop up syrup and butter.

“This is bullshit!” Levi is saying.

“There’s something else we need to talk about,” I say.

He glares at my phone. “Okay. A suspension isn’t a firing. And a review is reasonable.”

“I’ve been through them before. They’re never reasonable.”

Levi puts my phone down. “Why have you been through a review board?” he asks me.

I finish the pancake. “That’s why I was in DC.” I take a deep breath. “This is big, Levi. I have to tell you, and I can’t make myself start.”

“Is it about the visa status? I’ve already planned it. I downloaded the paperwork last night. I filled out some parts of it and I’ll pay for the visa change fee.”

“Firstly, Jesus Christ. Secondly, no. This has nothing to do with my visa. It’s about Robby.”

“Yeah?”

I look at my plate. “I shouldn’t be telling you because I signed a paper and I can’t, legally, but I have to trust you. Robby wasn’t my friend. He was…He was my subject. He was one of the men in my study. He did really well for a while, and then he didn’t. And he…” I shake my head. “He didn’t make it.” I clear my throat. “His family said I crossed a line with him.”

“Did you?”

“No!” I look at him. “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.” I pull my knees up, making myself smaller. “I wasn’t his therapist. I’m not qualified for that. I just listen and document. I never did or said anything. But I liked him. I wanted him to succeed. But, when he called me, I didn’t pick up because I was at a dinner date with Brice. He called me when I was just sitting down for dinner at a seafood restaurant in Portland, and I didn’t pick up.” I take my phone and tap in my passcode and hand it to him. He puts the phone to his ear. I look away so I don’t have to remember Robby’s voice.

I look at Levi and try to control the pain. But it erupts out of me, vicious. “A man is dead because I wanted to have the fucking mussel pasta. I could have picked up and I decided not to.”

“Oh, baby boy,” Levi says. He wraps his arms around me and I dissolve into ugly, gasping sobs that shake my whole body. “It’s all right, baby boy,” he murmurs.

“Is it?” I pull myself away. “The ethics committee at the VA—at least one person there—suggested that I prey on vulnerable young veterans. And then you came along and…” I shrug.

He scoots the chair over to me. “Bastien, look at me.”

I swallow hard and look up.

“I’m going to tell you something that’s going to make a lot of sense, but you’re not going to like it. I need you to hear me.” He takes my hands. “You don’t select veterans. They select you.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Because you’re compassionate. You genuinely care. You don’t perform compassion just to hear our worst stories. And that’s a thing. Believe me. You want us to be happy, and you aren’t vague about it. You work for it. If I were Robby, or any self-respecting gay man in that study, I would have definitely given you some serious thoughts. There’s something about you that appeals to me, and it likely appealed to Robby in the same way. And maybe other people. I didn’t know him, but these people chose you for the same reason I did. I just happened to have played my cards better than they did.”

“Well, I’m under active investigation right now from the VA. So if they get wind of this little mess, which is essentially confirming the worst of everything…It’s bad. And not just for me. This is a young field of research. People who were anxious to get involved will shy away because there will be a stigma around it. It’s happened in the past and derailed research for decades. I also have no real savings, crippling student loan debt, and could be deported any second. I’m a real winner.” I try to make it into a joke, but I’m afraid he’ll agree with me.

“Soon to be homeless, deported, jobless, indebted, and broke? Frankly, you’re everything Momma predicted I’d fall for.”

“Oh, thanks. She sounds like a real treasure.”

Levi laughs. “Look, the first time I met you, I knew you were the one. Like I’d known you all my life and couldn’t picture it without you.” He stands up. “You know what we should do? We should play hooky. Hide in bed, maybe make love one or two more times.”

“There’s nothing for me to play hooky from anymore!” I protest.

“I meant me.” He tugs at my hands. I stand up and follow him upstairs and into our bed. He undresses me and snuggles up behind me.

“Just a few minutes,” I say. “God, you feel good. Do you want me to be the big spoon someday?”

“No. I like having you as the little spoon too much. I need to hold you to feel safe.”