Driven Snow (12 page)

Anitra whipped an envelope from the man standing behind her and handed it to the dean. Obviously she was there for window dressing since the guy could just as easily have handed the winner’s name to the dean himself.

The dean smiled and made a big show of opening the envelope slowly. “Gosh. Shouldn’t we talk about the new academic offerings for next semester?”

On cue, everyone yelled, “Nooooo.”

Finally he ripped the paper. “It’s my pleasure to announce that your homecoming queen is a brilliant student and one of your very favorite cheerleaders. Are you ready? Courtney Taylor!”

Snow smiled and applauded loudly, since he knew how much she’d helped Riley. He glanced over his shoulder to see Riley beaming and clapping his hands. As Snow looked, Riley glanced up and flashed the dimples. Good. He was happy about Courtney. Plus, it seemed like a good accident that Snow stood in the middle of the dance floor, so he wouldn’t be sitting beside Riley when everyone turned to applaud him as homecoming king. Less embarrassing for both of them—not that anyone had missed their dance.

Courtney laughed and giggled and got huge applause when she made it to the stage. “Oh, thank you so much. I’m very surprised. This means so much to me.”

They handed her flowers and put a crown on her head. Then the dean smiled and said, “Stay right here while we deliver to you your king.”

The whisper level rose as Anitra made a big show of collecting the envelope from the guy. She passed it to the dean with a flourish. He smiled, and the drummer from the band, clearly getting bored with the delay, did a riff.

The dean opened the envelope. “Ah. I see.”

Anitra looked over his shoulder. Her eyes widened, she looked directly at Riley, then whispered something in the dean’s ear. A short sotto voce conversation ensued. What on earth were they doing?
Announce Riley and get it over with.

The dean leaned in to the mike. “Your homecoming king is Roget Brown.”

A collective gasp. Then gradually people started to applaud, but different comments punctuated the noise.

“No way.”

“Good one.”

“What are they thinking?”

And the classic, “Show the fag he ain’t no king.”

Rog made his way to the podium, looking as shocked as anybody in the room. Snow glanced at Riley. His cheekbones gleamed pink, but the rest of his face looked pale. He’d plastered a smile on and applauded for Rog like the guy wasn’t NorCal’s chief homophobe.

Carlos didn’t even bother to applaud. “What’s going on? Danny told me Riley was a sure winner. And I know that guy who won is Danny’s least favorite fraternity brother. What kind of fix happened here?”

Snow felt like he’d taken a board to the head. “No idea. Maybe the administration got word that he came out and wouldn’t let him win.”

Professor Kingsley grasped his own chest. “Oh no, that can’t be. NorCal wouldn’t endure a discriminatory policy.”

Snow frowned. “Maybe Mrs. Kingsley knows what happened. She sure seems to be involved.”

“Mrs. Kingsley? Oh, Anitra? Anitra.”

Snow turned to run to Riley.

Stop. You’ll just focus more attention on him at this moment of humiliation.

He has nothing to be humiliated about.

Tell that to the guy who’s
not
homecoming king.

Snow looked back at the stage. Courtney stared at Rog like a large reptile had gotten loose in the country club. No matter their romantic fiction, she was Riley’s friend. She wasn’t going to like the guy who hated Riley. The dean handed Rog the king’s scepter. Anitra gave him a big kiss on the cheek, after which she looked directly at Snow. Damn. That woman had something to do with this. But what? Why would she care?

Snow spun toward Professor Kingsley. “Sir, do you have any idea—” He stopped. The professor stood wobbling on his feet, with one hand extended toward Anitra on the stage and the other clutching at the tuxedo coat on his chest.

“Sir, are you okay?” He stepped closer and took hold of the professor’s arm. “Professor Kingsley?”

Carlos came up beside the professor on his other side. “You okay?”

Suddenly, like a tall, thin rag doll, the professor crumpled to the ground. Carlos caught him before he could hit the floor too hard and lowered him gently. “Man, he’s cold as ice.”

Snow fell on his knees beside the professor. “Professor Kingsley. Help! Somebody help.”

Riley slid up beside him, flopped on his knees, listened to the professor’s chest, and started CPR. “He’s not breathing much at all. Maybe his heart. Call 911, fast.”

Carlos was already on his phone, giving directions to the ambulance.

Snow clutched the professor’s icy hand to his chest. “Professor, don’t worry. You’ll be okay. You have to be okay.” Tears slid down his face, but he didn’t care.

The cool voice came from above him. “What on earth is happening here? What are you doing to my husband?”

CHAPTER 11

SNOW LISTENED
to Riley’s soft snores. He stretched his legs on the hard waiting room couch and snuggled his head deeper into Riley’s lap. Jesus, only Riley’s warmth kept him from dissolving into shards of ice. He glanced out the one window into darkness. Hours with no word. Of course, the hospital staff had let Anitra go back to see the professor as soon as he came out of lab tests. Snow couldn’t go anywhere near him. He didn’t qualify as family. No one cared that the professor was all the family Snow had.

More tears collected at the corners of his eyes, and he shook his head to free them. No way. He’d cried enough. He had to keep his wits. The professor might need him. If he still needed anything. Oh God, why wouldn’t somebody tell him something? He dragged in a long, shaky breath.

“Hey.” Riley petted his hair with a warm hand.

Snow turned so he looked straight up into Riley’s face. “Hey.”

“Sorry I fell asleep on you.”

Snow raised a hand and touched Riley’s cheek. “You had a rough evening.”

“Not as rough as you.”

“I can’t believe they did some weird, homophobic, discriminatory play and named Roget homecoming king.”

“Doesn’t matter at all in light of real problems, does it?” Riley smiled sadly.

“It does matter. They shouldn’t get away with stuff like that.”

“Maybe Rog just had more votes.”

“Bullshit!”

Riley really laughed. “I’ve never heard you say that before.”

“It makes me mad.”

“Have you heard anything about Professor Kingsley?”

Snow sat up. “Not a thing, and I’m about to run screaming into the critical care ward with an axe.”

“Maybe I should make them aware of their impending doom, and they might give up a little data.” He wrapped an arm around Snow’s tense shoulders.

Snow shook his head. “I can’t shake the idea that Ms. Popescu knows something about—well, everything.”

“Mrs. Kingsley, you mean?”

“I guess.”

Riley looked into Snow’s face. “The professor seemed to verify that they’re married, right?”

“Yes.” He chewed the inside of his cheek. “But doesn’t it seem weird that they rush out and get married and then—this?”

“These kinds of tragedies happen all the time. Maybe the professor sensed he was ill and wanted to, I don’t know, reaffirm his youth or something.”

“Maybe.”

Riley tightened his arm. “I know this has to be so awful for you.”

Snow nodded.
I’m not crazy. Or overreacting. That woman is weird.

Like he’d manifested her, Anitra swept into the waiting room. “Oh, you’re still here. How kind of you.”

Snow leaped to his feet. “How is he?”

She tightened her jaw. “Unconscious.”

“Oh God.”

“There’s a heart arrhythmia, which is affecting his breathing.”

“That sounds bad.”

“It is, I’m afraid.” She walked over and slid an arm around Snow’s shoulders, her brilliant hair brushing his cheek.

Don’t tense. Don’t tense.

“We have to help each other now. That’s what he would want.”

Snow nodded.

She released him. “Why don’t you go home and get some rest? Come back tomorrow and we’ll talk about—” She waved her hand idly. “—things. The future. You know.”

“I’d rather stay here.”

She let out a little sigh. Frustration? “I know, dear, but you have school.”

“This is Sunday. Almost, anyway.”

“Oh, is it? I’d forgotten. Anyway, you need your rest. I promise to call if there’s the slightest change.”

“Please—”

“Riley, will you take Snow home, please?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Try to convince him it’s for his own good.”

Riley wrapped a big, warm arm around Snow. “Come on, sweetheart.”

It was almost worth leaving just to hear Riley call him sweetheart.

As they walked down the hall, Riley murmured, “She’s got all the power in here since she’s his wife. We have to do what she says for now.”

Snow paused and looked up at him. “So you don’t think I’m a paranoid idiot?”

“I think you’re the most brilliant person I ever met. If you think she’s weird, then so do I.”

Tears pressed out of his eyes, and he swiped at them. “Thank you.”

“Come on. Let’s go home.”

“Home?”

Riley smiled. “My place or yours?”

“In my apartment, I like my rug. And my chess sets. But I like everything about yours.” He managed to smile.

“In that case, let’s stop at your apartment, get your chess set and some clothes, and then go to my place and settle in.”

“Really?” Was Riley Prince inviting him to sleep over?

Riley wrapped his arm around Snow again and resumed walking. “No pressure. I’ve even got an extra bedroom with a really terrible futon, which I volunteer to sleep on because I have to practice my chivalry and shit.” He looked down and grinned. Dimples popped out all over. Then he sobered. “I know right now isn’t the best time for romantic encounters, but I don’t want you to be alone.”

Snow stopped walking, his head hanging.

“What? Are you okay?”

“How can you be so wonderful?”

“Am I? I’m inspired by you, I guess.” He hugged Snow a little tighter. “I’m just a regular dumb jock who wants to live up to having you as my boyfriend.”

“I’m just a freaky, weird nerd who talks to himself and doesn’t even have the good manners to do it out loud.”

Riley laughed. “Come on, my nerd. Let’s go home.”

ANITRA SLIPPED
into the back door of the professor’s house. Her house. She smiled at the shiny appliances and big granite island.
Mine.
She’d told Harold the condo she lived in was hers, but in fact she’d borrowed it from a friend for a small piece of the action. A debt soon to be paid.

She whirled. Jesus, she could smell the lube two rooms away. Tossing her purse on the counter, she hurried through the kitchen and dining room, then yanked the blinds closed in the living room. “Don’t you do anything else?” Hunter lay on the couch wanking off to porn—again.

“I’m bored.”

“Get a job.”

“I’ve got a job.” He sat and reached out, pulling her down onto his lap.

She wriggled back and pointed at his very erect and sticky penis. “I’m not sure there’s room for both of us, plus, I don’t want lube all over my clothes.”

“I guess we’ll have to find a place to put my cock so it doesn’t take up so much room.”

“That sounds good, but first I have to e-mail the people at the Anderson Chess Tournament and tell them that Snowden Reynaldi is too devastated to compete in the championships. I want it to be on their desks as soon as they get in tomorrow.”

“Is it true? Is he too upset to compete?”

She stared at the window. “I’m going to see to it that he is.”

IN THE
shelter of Riley’s good right arm, Snow walked up the front steps of the house and reached out to open the front door since Riley had Snow’s stuffed backpack in his other hand.

The door flew open.
Whoops.
Mrs. Wishus grabbed Snow’s arm and pulled him inside. “Oh, you poor dears, you must be exhausted. I heard about Harold. Awful. Just awful.”

“You know Professor Kingsley, ma’am?” Of course, it wouldn’t have surprised him to learn she knew the president of the United States personally.

“Yes, from way back. It seems so unlikely that he would have a heart condition. Always such a robust man.”

Snow blinked a few times.

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry. You two head upstairs, and I’ll bring you something to eat so you can go right to bed.”

Snow’s cheeks heated, but she didn’t seem to think anything about it. She bustled into her apartment, leaving the blue door open.

Riley grinned. “Come on. Let’s do as she says.”

Snow stumbled as he climbed the steep stairs, and Riley held him up. “Easy, sweetheart. You’re almost to a place you can rest.”

Rest. Funny how half of him wanted to curl in a ball and never stop sleeping—and the other half wanted Riley to curl up around his balls and never stop sucking. Heat singed his ears. He was glad the staircase was dim.

In the apartment, Riley led the way down the hall to the inner reaches where Snow hadn’t been before. Just as ever-so-slightly shabby and totally homey as the rest. He opened the door to a big bedroom complete with unmade bed and some very large sneakers in the middle of the floor, but otherwise pretty neat. He bustled over to the king-size bed. “Uh, sorry. I left kind of in a hurry. I’ll get some fresh sheets.”

Snow sat on the edge of the bed. “No. I like it just the way it is.” It smelled so good—just like Riley.

Riley smiled at him and touched his cheek.

“Oh, boyyyyysss.”

Riley glanced over his shoulder. “Coming, Eudora.” He helped Snow up. “Come on, let’s eat. She’s an amazing cook.”

“Don’t know if I can eat.”

“Try. Come on.” He grinned like he had a secret.

In the dining area, Riley’s table practically sagged under all the goodies. Two place settings with big bowls full of something steaming, a loaf of bread that looked homemade, and dishes of butter, pickles, cheese, and olives were spread out on the checked tablecloth. She smiled. “Sit down and enjoy.”