Page 44 of Unbound
"It does, though." His fingers shifted slightly, the tip of his index finger barely grazing my knuckle. "It matters because you're sitting here building brilliant constitutional arguments for something you were taught to oppose, and you're doing it because some part of you still knows what discovery feels like. Some part of you that they never managed to completely suppress."
I looked down at my notes—three pages of careful analysis, questions, observations. My handwriting documenting arguments for marriage equality, for constitutional protection of rights I'd never been allowed to consider.
"We should get back to work," I said.
Adrian was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "Right. We still need to cover the equal protection analysis."
"We should probably call it a night," I said, my voice coming out strained and unnatural. "It's getting late."
Adrian was quiet for a moment, and I could feel him watching me. "Okay," he said finally. "Same time day after tomorrow?"
I nodded, still not meeting his eyes as I gathered my soggy notes. But as I packed my bag, I could still feel the phantom warmth of his hand under mine, could still see the way his pupils had dilated when I'd touched him.
And I knew, with terrifying certainty, that I wanted to touch him again.
We walked out of the library together, our footsteps echoing in the quiet evening. At the main entrance, our paths diverged—Adrian heading toward the queer fraternity house, me toward my sterile apartment.
"Jesse," he called as I started to walk away.
I turned back.
"You did good work tonight. Really good work." He paused, seeming to weigh his words. "I know this isn't easy for you. But you're handling it like the lawyer you're going to be."
He walked away before I could respond, leaving me standing under the library's entrance lights with his words echoing in my head.
The lawyer you're going to be.
Not the lawyer my parents wanted me to be. Not the lawyer who would serve their vision of God's purpose. The lawyer I was going to be, based on my own mind and my own choices.
I was halfway back to my apartment when my phone buzzed. Rebecca, calling instead of texting this time.
"Hey," I answered, still distracted by constitutional law and Adrian's unexpected praise.
"Jesse? Where have you been? I've been texting you for hours."
I stopped walking. Texting me for hours? I pulled the phone away from my ear to check my messages. Six unread texts from Rebecca, starting three hours ago.
How did your day go?
Want to grab dinner?
Jesse? Everything okay?
Starting to worry. Call me.
Seriously, where are you?
If you don't answer soon I'm coming over.
"Oh God," I said. "Rebecca, I'm sorry. I was studying and I had my phone on silent."
"Studying for three hours without checking your phone? That's not like you."
She was right. It wasn't like me. I always checked my phone.I always responded to her texts immediately. I never just... disappeared into my work without thinking about the people waiting to hear from me.
"I was at the library," I said, which was true. "Working on a group project for Constitutional Law."
Also true. But not the whole truth. Not even close.
