“Shayne!” he blurted out in a panic. He tried to quickly stand up but his heel must have caught on something because he stumbled backwards; both the chair and the asshole who was sitting on it, wound up tumbling to the floor with a conspicuous crash.There was fear in his eyes when he looked up into my face. He tried scooting in retreat on his butt. Huh, so much for being a better man than me, I thought.“Hey, what’s going on?” I heard someone yell from a distance but I paid no attention. I was focused on lover boy.“W ... Wait ... Shayne, don’t do anything crazy,” he sputtered while clumsily getting to his feet.That was all I was waiting for. I grabbed the lapel of his sport coat with my left hand while drawing back with my right. He tried putting his hands up to block the punch but was too slow. I heard some women scream as my fist caught him hard against his left cheekbone. Luckily for him, and probably me too, the guy at the table behind him was getting up to intervene and was able. I swooned on the inside, and found every excuse I could to visit him during his office hours. That class was my best grade that year. On top of it all, I really LIKED him. He was so smart, so nice, and had a great sense of humor. Somewhere halfway through the year, my visits started turning into epic gab sessions. After we'd dispensed with whatever course business I'd come to discuss, we'd talk for half an hour about music, movies, politics ... it was amazing. I had no idea he was gay. I just assumed I was having yet another futile crush on a straight man, but when I ran into him on campus after classes had ended, he said, "Hey, so when do you go home?" "In a week." "We should go for a beer before that." He said it casually, but it caught me by surprise. "Um, sure," I stammered. And before I knew what I was saying, I added, "How about tonight?" That took HIM by surprise, but he grinned and said, "Sure." We made plans to meet at a small pub just off campus. Needless to say, I was so.
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