it on his own.
Samuel groaned. “I hate you so, so much.”
Lucas glanced over, raising a brow. “Why, what did I trigger in that chipmunk brain of yours?”
Samuel gave him a push, ignoring his yelp of protest as coffee splashed out of the mug and onto his hand. “Ass. And you made me realize I’m being a shit.”
“At the risk of getting more first-degree burns,” Lucas said, wiping his hand on his sweater to dry it off. “You being a shit is like you breathing, it’s bound to happen eventually.”
Samuel considered giving his friend another push but decided that no, he wouldn’t do that, if only because the man was right. Sure, being right was grounds for being pushed again, but in this case, Samuel would grudgingly accept the truth.
“I just…” Samuel sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I should probably reach out to him a little more. I mean, I’m like, almost completely sure that I’m the only friend he has right now. His grandparents, the ones who raised him from like, six years old, died before we reconnected in Portland. And he hasn’t mentioned anyone else, not even casually.”
Lucas nodded in understanding. “I see. So you realize that while you’ve been being dramatic about how much he’s been annoying you, he could actually need someone to give him the time of day and maybe a shoulder?”
“Well, yes,” Samuel growled. “Though I take issue with the way you chose to phrase that.”
“Focus,” Lucas warned him with a smirk. “So what are you going to do about it?”
Samuel threw up his hands. “Apparently, I’m going to leave your smart ass here on some abandoned part of the campus and go see how he’s holding up. He’s probably still in his new office, avoiding going home to do even more unpacking, which is like, the only thing I know he does when he’s not at work.”
“Maybe you should consider taking a breath or several before you go talk to him. The last thing you want is to show up riled up. You’re not much help when you get like this,” Lucas warned him.
“You’re an awful friend, and I don’t like you very much,” Samuel growled.
Lucas chuckled, bending down to plant a kiss on Samuel’s forehead. “No, I’m not, and yes, you do. Now go be a good friend.”
“Unlike you,” Samuel called to his friend's back, rubbing at his forehead.
Lucas knew Samuel hated that but damned if he didn’t do it anyway, the absolute ass. Worse yet, Samuel still knew Lucas was right, and he definitely hated that. Yet he knew full well he couldn’t stand around on the sidewalk talking to himself. The path they’d been treading in circles for the past hour was rarely used, but it would be just Samuel’s luck that some wandering student would pass through and see him talking to himself.
So before he could be labeled a crazy professor, or at least one of the crazy professors, he turned on his heel and marched to the other side of the campus, hoping he wasn’t about to make a fool of himself.
The Edwin McConnell building was the formal title for the multipart structure that was commonly known simply as The Gym. It was broken down into a few different sections, with the front used most often as it was the area anyone on campus could use. That’s where the actual gym of The Gym was and had been built a year before Samuel had started working at the university. A sprawling room, it came equipped with all manner of exercise equipment, as well as an indoor track and a few racquetball rooms.
Samuel preferred to use the on-campus gym for his workout since he had automatic membership as a professor. The sections behind it, where classes and training were held, as well as the large pool, were the places he wasn’t familiar with. Years ago, when he’d attended Greenford University as a student, he’d had one class that he’d taken as an elective. One semester’s worth of Health Science 101 over a decade ago, however, was not enough to program the map of the building in his head.
Which was exactly why he found himself wandering the halls and wondering where the hell the staff offices were. After almost fifteen minutes of pacing through halls, finding several classrooms, two different ways to the pool, two sets of locker rooms, and what he was sure were half a dozen storage rooms, he had all but given up hope. He wasn’t even sure he