Chapter Three

The temperature should only hit ninety-nine by afternoon. The guy on the radio said if we didn’t break the century mark, the heat wave would technically be over. Not that any of us would notice. With the humidity, it would still feel well over one hundred, and the extreme weather warnings would continue. We weren’t expecting a break until sometime the following week.

Ugh.

Sleeping outside helped my mood. I added a second fan so I had breeze from two sides and that made it easier to sleep. Of course, jerking off before bed every night didn’t hurt either. Shadow Man and I were meeting up every night around one. We never changed the lighting or our positions. It usually took us about ten minutes to get off before he went inside and I settled into my chairs.

“Ethan!”

Troy’s voice broke through my lusty thoughts as he made his way across the dining hall. I couldn’t help smiling. Troy was my best friend and was always uber-bubbly. Not even the temperature dampened it.

I stood as he approached, carrying his usual oatmeal and coffee. He set the food down on my table and we hugged. Troy and I started our master’s programs at the same time. While I focused on ethics in journalism, Troy’s thesis explored how technology transformed the way news is delivered, and how it impacts how journalists work. We paired up for a project in one of our first classes and we became fast friends, bonding over the jokes the professor told and a love for classic nineteen-seventies kid shows done in Supermarionation. We were overdue for another marathon.

“Great to see you,” I said. “No student charges this morning?”

“Nope. They’re in a seminar with Professor Landon. So I’m on my own for a couple hours.”

Troy worked with groups of high school journalism students from around the state. The students were among the best and were here to learn about an array of topics for two weeks. Troy would lead five groups over the summer.

“Cool,” I said, setting aside the papers I’d been grading. “Enjoying it still?”

“Totally. I’m not getting as much research done as I’d hoped, but working with these kids is great. They’re eager to learn and see the tech we’ve got here. There’s one kid in this group who lives in a small town south of Montgomery where they produce the school paper on a typewriter and distribute photocopies.”

“Yikes. That’s just one step above mimeograph.”

“Right? It’s crazy. I wish I could send him home with some computers and a laser printer if nothing else. At least they’ve got a school paper. She said they produce four pages every two weeks.”

“I’d hate to be the one that has to type it.”

Troy nodded as he mixed fruit into his oatmeal. “How goes it with you?”

“Good, good. I love teaching. Brainstorming with the students on their assignments is fun. It’s an enjoyable break from the research, which is going okay. I’ve had issues collating some data, but I’m working through it. Frankly, having access to Dr. Mayer’s been great. We talk about my research sometimes and he always points me in a good direction.”

“He’s good that way. I love getting into discussions with him. Hell, I hope I end up like him.”

“I hear that,” I took a long drink from my water bottle and nibbled on the fruit salad I still had in front of me. “How’s Jude doing? You hear much from her?”

“We Skype every couple days,” he said between bites of breakfast. “She’s killing me. She’s digging up rocks some place in Canada I can’t even pronounce, where the temperature is only in the seventies. She’s usually in a sweater when we talk and I’m here sweating my balls off.”

I laughed, a lot louder than I should.

“Sweaty balls are not funny,” Troy finally said after I didn’t stop laughing. “In fact, I can say firsthand that they’re pretty much gross.” He started to eat a spoonful of oatmeal but stopped. “Wait, was that insensitive? Are you into sweaty balls?”

“Sorry,” I said, trying to rein myself in. “It’s just this is the first time in days where the weather yielded a truly funny remark. And no, I’m not into sweaty balls. Clean balls, please.”

Unless they were Shadow Man’s. Those I might take as is. The giggles returned with a vengeance.

“I think the heat is getting to you,” Troy said. “Do we need to go to health services?”

I drank some coffee and forced myself to settle down.

“A lot of thoughts ricocheted through my mind all at once.”

“Well, balls will do that.”

“Okay, you have to stop or coffee is gonna come out my nose,” I said, holding back more laughter. “So I’ve got to tell you something.” I knew I could tell Troy since we’d swapped a few stories, though it was usually over stiffer drinks. He already looked intrigued, cocking his head to the right. “I’ve been sleeping on my balcony the last few nights because it’s cooler. There’s this guy in the building on the hill. He’s been on his balcony, jerking off. We’ve been watching each other and doing it together.”

“Sweaty balls, indeed,” he said. “Damn, dude. Are you the watcher or the watched?”

“Both. The first night it happened, I had trouble falling asleep and looked over. There he was. I don’t think he saw me until I stood up to join him. We’re both in shadows. Can’t tell what he looks like, except that he’s got a sexy outline. Oh, and a nice ass. I caught a glimpse of that once.”

“You know where he lives. You could just go knock on his door.”

I rolled my eyes. “What would I say? I’m your buddy from down the hill?”

“If it seemed like it was a hot girl up there, I think I’d see if I could parlay that into an actual hook up.”

I finished my coffee and poked the last piece of pineapple with my fork. “Somehow I actually believe you’d do it.” I chomped on the juicy fruit.

“Hell yeah. Nothing to lose. The worst you’d get is a ‘no thanks,’ or you’d might say no if he’s not as hot as his outline.”

Troy had a point. I’d thought about going over there, but I couldn’t work up the nerve. I’d imagined playing out a balcony scene with him à la Romeo and Juliet or Rapunzel.

“At least you’re getting some fun in the hot weather,” Troy said.

“True. And it is fun, watching what he does, and hoping we don’t get caught.”

“Don’t do that, man. I mean I’d come bail you out if you got arrested, but I’d give you shit about it for weeks.”

“A true friend,” I said, standing up and collecting my things. “Gotta go sit in the office for a while. Catch you later, man. Say hi to Jude for me.”

“Later, Ethan. Keep me posted on your mystery man.”

Next Friday: Ethan and Marcus meet face to face!

Fun fact: In my head this scene takes place at Ferguson Center dining facilities. The Ferg has had a major facelift in the thirty years since I went to Bama, but I have no doubt coversations like this one between Ethan and Troy happen there.