My eyes goggled. I wanted to duck under both of them and bolt for the door. Instead, I mentally rolled up my sleeves and lilted, “I’m sure they will.”

“We’ll see about that,” Marjorie said before turning and walking away.

Great. The Wicked Witch of the West was my sculpting teacher and I was fresh out of water buckets, otherwise I would’ve poured one over her head right then.

“Take your positions, class,” the professor barked. Her voice thundered around the room. An omen of things to come? I’m sure she was already formulating a surprise lightning strike on my ass sometime this quarter, and I feared her particular version of a lightning strike would include a squadron of flying monkeys soldiers flying out of her butt and setting their sights on me, something I hoped to avoid because I was fresh out of monkey repellent. Because you know her butt-monkeys didn’t shower, or at the very least rinse, upon ejecting from Marjorie’s rear end. Maybe she could install one of those drive-thru car-wash machines in her rectum? It could work. I would have to sketch up plans later.

“Don’t worry about her,” Hunter mumbled to me after the professor had walked out of earshot, startling me out of my reverie, “She’s always like this.”

“And that’s supposed to be a good thing?” I scoffed.

He chuckled. “You’re cute when you get all intense like this.”

I rolled my eyes and turned around.

He was still standing behind me.

“Shouldn’t you be modeling or something?” I said over my shoulder.

“Oh, did you want a better look? Let me take my robe off…”

“Can you wait until you’re on the stand?” I pleaded. “Then the professor can have you all to herself.”

He chuckled and walked back to the dais, taking his robe off halfway to it like he owned the place. But we both knew this was Marjorie’s boudoir, not mine.

Luckily, for the remainder of class, Professor Bitch left me alone. I was able to focus strictly on improving my sculpture.

Much to my surprise, sculpting class, which was supposed to be a welcome relief from Managerial Accounting, was making me increasingly uncomfortable. I was irritated that Hunter had forced me into a suicidal love triangle between him and Professor Voodoo, and I wasn’t even interested in him.

I had Christos.

My feelings for Christos were unbreakable. So why did Hunter have to force himself on me? His eyes were always on me, no matter where I was in the room, with the exceptions of the times that I was behind him. I was glad he was stuck in his pose and couldn’t turn around. If the professor hadn’t been there, I’m sure he would have, and blown off the entire class just to hit on me.

Whatever.

I was thankful when Hunter finally put his robe on at the end of class. I was so done.

With any luck, I’d be able to squeeze out the door without Hunter or the professor jumping all over me.

SAMANTHA

While quickly packing my supplies, Romeo came over to my sculpting station. We walked out together.

Luckily, Hunter was busy talking to Professor Bittinger, but that didn’t stop him from staring at me as I passed them by.

“Laters, Sam,” Hunter said over his shoulder.

Professor Bittinger frowned at me.

I’m surprised she didn’t hiss at me and bare her teeth. With any luck, maybe Marjorie would have an affair with Hunter and get herself thrown out of SDU for sexual harassment. I wouldn’t be the one to say anything if they did. With my new financial predicament, I had too many problems of my own to worry about, but maybe some of the other students might get uncomfortable enough with Hunter’s blatant behavior to file a complaint against both of them.

Romeo and I walked out of the Visual Arts building into the Eucalyptus grove outside.

“That guy was hot!” Romeo moaned.

“I guess,” I replied reluctantly.

“Oh, come on, Sam. You were drooling too.”

“I was not!” I protested. I really wasn’t. Why did I feel guilty all of a sudden? Looking at the model was part of class. So what if class consisted of staring at a naked guy. Who was hot.

Was I a bad girlfriend because I could see that Hunter was attractive? I didn’t think so. It was just an observation. It didn’t mean I was attracted to him.

Romeo narrowed his eyes. “But you have to admit he was a Grade-A Meat Monster.”

“What’s a meat monster?”

“Didn’t you see his package?”

“Not really,” I smirked.

“You’re such a bullshitter, Sam. He was hanging out like an elephant trunk the entire time. I would totally be that guy’s dick sharpener.”

I giggled. “Dick sharpener?”

Romeo nodded coyly.

“Who was hanging out?” Hunter asked, jogging up behind us, all smiles. He wore a black collarless polo shirt with white detailing around the throat. It was unbuttoned, revealing the muscles of his neck and the defined ridges of his chest. The sleeves were bunched up, showing off his rippled forearms and several different gold and silver bracelets. Dark jeans and expensive dark suede shoes completed his look. Hunter dressed to impress as purposefully as he undressed to impress.

Romeo gulped. “Ahhh…” He was swooning.

“Hey, Sam,” Hunter said. “What’re you guys up to?” He was looking right at me.

“Ahh, I’m heading home. I’ve got tons of homework to do,” I said apologetically.

“Do you need a ride?” Hunter asked.

“No, thanks. I drove myself.”

“Well, what’re you doing later, for dinner?”

“More homework,” I said.

“I’m free,” Romeo tittered.

Hunter was thrown off by Romeo’s comment. His smile dimmed, but then he shook it off. “When are you free, Sam?” Hunter asked.

“Probably never?” I said reluctantly.

“I doubt that,” he smiled.

I stopped in my tracks and looked Hunter in the eyes. “I have a boyfriend, Hunter.” That should do the trick, right? Lay it all out on the table so there’s no confusion.

“So?”

I frowned. “Hunter, I’m in a relationship.”

“I’m not,” Romeo said.

Hunter frowned at Romeo again before looking back at me. “Are you serious about this guy?”

“Of course I’m serious!” I protested. “That’s why he’s my boyfriend.”

Hunter cocked a thumb at Romeo. “You don’t mean him, do you?”

That was actually funny. I chuckled. “I mean my other boyfriend.”

“You have more than one?” Hunter asked. “Because I can be number three. Third time’s the charm, right?” he flashed his swoon-worthy smile.

He was charming, all right. And by the looks of him, he could have any woman he wanted. So why me? He was wasting his time. I was in love with Christos, and that was that.

I decided my best strategy with Hunter was to remain silent.

Hunter followed me and Romeo out of the Eucalyptus grove.

Minutes later, we were passing Tiffany, who was still camped on the side of the main pathway. Did she even have any classes? She was holding court with her two satanic hobot minions as I passed. No matter. She was the perfect distraction. Her smile faded when she saw me.

I stopped suddenly in my tracks. Romeo nearly knocked me down as he stumbled to a stop.

Hunter swerved, but kept his balance. “I see you changed your mind,” he smiled cockily.

“Tiffany,” I said, smiling merrily, “meet Hunter Blakeley.”

She took one look at him and her frown was gone. But then it was back. She looked between me and Hunter. “Is this some kind of a joke?” she scoffed.

“No,” I smiled, “Hunter is totally in need of a date, and I thought you two might hit it off. Hunter, this is Tiffany Kingston-Whitehouse. She’s a great girl—” yes, I almost gagged when I said it, “—and I think you two ought to get to know each other.”

“Did she put you up to this?” Tiffany glared at me suspiciously.

Hunter was thrown off his game. He was obviously checking Tiffany out. I couldn’t blame him. Tiffany was very good looking. On the outside. Her insides looked like a sewer, based on my experiences with her. And I wasn’t talking about her colon. I meant her personality. Tiffany was one of those girls who wanted the world to believe that when she went number two, rose petals sifted out. Well, what really came out and fell into the toilet bowl was her personality. You know what I mean.

“No,” Hunter said to Tiffany, “I, we just met. Samantha and I.”

“Who?” Tiffany said.

“I thought you guys knew each other?” Hunter asked, confused.

“Her?” Tiffany sneered. “I think she scrubs toilets around campus. Yeah, that’s where I’ve seen her.”

I was right. Tiffany and toilet bowls went hand-in-hand. Maybe I needed to start thinking of her as Tiffany Kingcolon-Shithouse.

“Enjoy!” I waved to Tiffany and Hunter before hurrying off, pulling Romeo behind me.

“Wait, Sam!” Romeo said. “He’s totally staring at us!”

“I don’t care, let’s just go.”

“But what if he’s staring at me?!” Romeo whined.

“I doubt it.”

“You think he wants both of us?” he gasped hopefully.

“No, I think he just wants to add another notch to his belt.”

“I’ll be his notch!” Romeo pleaded.

“Shut up, Romeo!”

With any luck, Tiffany and Hunter would tear each other to shreds like ravenous predators. Because that’s what they both were.

I shuddered as I wondered what kind of babies they might make. Velociraptors and Sabertooth Tigers, look out! The Kingston-Whitehouse-Blakeley Boys are in the house!

Somehow, I thought if Tiffany and Hunter did hit it off, it would be the end of the human race. What had I done?