Page 139 of Hushed

“I actually agree with Levi and Matt,” Molly says. “Institutions are not here to protect their workers. By and large, they are here to protect themselves, and if the workers benefit from it, that’s almost incidental. These are real debates we are having in academia in this country about the loopholes that the law exposed. And, to circle back to what you said, Cecilia, asking a person to declare their partner in a public space to strangers is a non-issue for straight people. For same-sex couples, it’s far more fraught, and this is one of those gray areas. You cannot ask people to out themselves, and their partners, just to make you feel better.” She says it in a kind voice, but it hits hard.

“That doesn’t mean that the rule is wrong!” Cecilia insists. “Even if we should figure out a clearer set of rules for when they do and don’t apply. Levi, I’m sorry, but there are a lot of people who are going to just see the words professor-student and they’re only going to see one thing.”

“I chased him. I saw a man playing a piano on a street in Washington and I decided inside of a minute that I was going to have him, and I got him into bed inside of six hours. By day three I had decided he was the one. So, tell me what you see there. I dare you.”

I see her wince and for a second, I see exactly how I look in her eyes. It is the exact shape that the Buzz made of me.

“That is enough of that,” Molly says, and it lands like a lid going on a pot. She looks at the clock. She looks at the door. Then she takes her glasses off and rubs the bridge of her nose, and when she speaks again it is not in her teaching voice.

“Cecilia is right that the rule is necessary. Matt is right that this university has a mechanism it is choosing not to use.” She puts the glasses back on. “Both of those are true at the same time. That is what makes it a bad week. Do not let anybody in the hallway tell you it is simple. Now, let’s look at section four, which was your assigned reading from last night.”

“Dr. Baker?” Matt says in a small voice, interrupting her.

She stops in surprise. “Yes, Matt?”

He clears his throat. “You’re a good teacher, and you’re a nice person. I really like you. But this is Dr. Saint-Jacques’s class. And…” He takes a deep breath. “And he’s a good person who really cares about his students.”

“Some more than others,” Cecilia mutters.

“And why not?” Matt says. “I think you’re just jealous because he doesn’t care about you, but I think he was placed in a bad position and tried to make the best of it. There’s a walkout today and I’m joining it. Because Saint-Jacques should fight back.” He stands up.

This I didn’t know about when I came onto campus, but I can hear people in the hallways. I catch a glimpse of Delphine—God bless tough French women—leading her entire class. I can practically hear her singing “La Marseillaise.” People are standing up and packing up in this room. Molly looks utterly floored by this. “Good for you, Matt,” she finally says as he collects his things. “Stand up for what you believe in. You know what? I’m joining it, too.”

“That’s unethical!” Cecilia says. “You can’t take a side on this! You’re a teacher!”

“I can take a side. I already have. I was the one who filed the paperwork so that this kind of showdown didn’t happen at all.”

“This is not about him or me,” Matt says. “It’s about barefaced discrimination. Especially in a place that bills itself as the most gay-friendly school in the Southeast, that’s bullshit.” He glances at Molly in terror. “Sorry, ma’am. But there’s a double standard here. When do gay people have to stop trying to do double the work to be considered respectable?”

“That’s a good point. Class, you are welcome to do with the rest of the hour what you want,” Molly says. “Levi, before you leave, a word.”

The rest of the class starts packing up.

She takes a deep breath and looks again at the door. “I want to prepare you for what I think is going to happen today.” She motions me behind the podium, where she’s still logged into the room’s computer. She types something and pulls up her email. Then she looks at me pointedly. “I had to send a message to the department about mandatory FERPA training.” She highlights an email and pulls it up.

MESSAGE NOT DELIVERED. There was an issue delivering your message to . The user has not been found. Please check your email address.

I click on it and check the date. It’s dated last week.

“There’s one more thing you should see.” She clicks on an email titled JOB ALERT.

Fairhaven University seeks a qualified candidate for a full-time, tenure-track position in Psychology. Successful candidates will have experience in teaching undergraduate classes, especially introductory seminars.

The ad goes on. My eye does not. I turn to her and nod. “Thank you, ma’am.”

She puts her hands on my arm. “I’m sorry. I did what I could. But the Ethics Committee is stacked with enemies. I think that they had the votes to convict before they even left your living room.” She shuts down the computer. “Are you going to the rally?”

“No, ma’am,” I say. I still haven’t been able to take my eyes off the monitor, even as it goes black. “I’m going home.”

She looks surprised.

“Just some insurance documents I need to pull out.”

“Okay, then. Well. I’ll see you in class, then. And if you feel like taking a few days off, I won’t say anything.”

I stand in the empty room and drum my fingers on the podium. Out in the corridor Delphine’s class is still going past.

Then I make a decision.