12.Rude Awakening

12. Rude Awakening

As I slowly open my eyes the next morning, I realize that I’m alone on the couch.

Since Samson has an early morning class, I’m not disappointed. I wasn’t expecting to wake up with company. Sure enough, he left a note on the coffee table about him going to class and he also left me a cup of coffee, which has a smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

The coffee Samson brewed is stronger than what I usually drink, so I’m already awake and alert a short time later when I arrive on campus.

I’m in a good mood when Professor Solis spots me on the path near the magical studies building and walks over. Seeing the professor of my hardest class intent on talking to me would normally threaten any positivity I feel, but he’s already smiling when he reaches me.

"Congratulations, Argyle! You aced the last worksheet and got a B on the pop-quiz from last week!"

Oh my god. I might actually survive college and have something to show for it when I’m done. Pleased and proud as I am, I don’t deserve all the credit. My tutor did a lot of the hard work himself.

Samson is the one who encouraged me and reminded me that I can do this. He helped me trust in myself and feel less anxious about doing the work. And Samson is the one who—who is running away like his ass is on fire?

Did I just see what I think I did? Samson was up ahead walking towards me when he stopped in his tracks upon seeing me. The panic on his face was visible from a distance before he veered off into the grass and ducked behind the nearest tree.

My heart sinks at this reaction. I was expecting to wake up alone, but I wasn’t expecting for him to act like I was the last person in the world he wanted to see. Not after everything he said last night. Did he change his mind and decide he wasn't cut out for more after all?

Professor Solis notices my change in mood and furrows his brow in concern. "Is everything alright, Argyle? This is good news.”

“Uh, right,” I agree distractedly. “Good news. That’s good.”

“It is. If your grades keep improving like this, you’ll pass my class. I thought you’d be happier about this.”

"Happy, yeah. I'm… thrilled. Tickled even."

The words I'm saying barely register as I watch the firebrand's hiding spot. Samson peeks around the tree and ducks back behind it when he sees I’m still looking.

Even Professor Solis turns his head to see what I’m watching. When he doesn’t see anything, he must assume I’m just spacing out and acting strangely because he watches me with concern. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

"Oh, um. I just remembered, uh, I think I left something at home. Excuse me.”

I leave the confused professor behind as I approach Samson's hiding spot. My fury builds on the walk over.

"What the hell are you doing?" I hiss as I reach him.

A guilty Samson slowly peeks his head out from behind the tree. He swallows hard and slumps against it. "Argyle, h-hey. Didn’t know you saw me.”

"And I didn’t know you were avoiding me."

"Avoiding you?" Samson looks up from the ground, forehead crinkled.

"You’re still hiding behind the tree!" My voice climbs to a higher octave than I intended.

"I’m not hiding from you," he says.

What the hell is going on? I have no idea, but I think I believe him. Mostly because he looks around me and checks that the coast is clear before he emerges from behind the tree.

Clear from what, though? That’s the question.

“Why were you talking to him?" Samson wonders.

I’m so concerned with his shady behavior that it takes me a second to even figure out who he’s talking about.

"My professor? I talk to him a lot since I’m having trouble in his class."

"His class?" Samson looks alarmed. "He's teaching the class you're struggling with?"

"It doesn’t matter! Please explain—"

Samson cuts me off. "It matters. I was trying to avoid him."

"Professor Solis? You don’t even know him!"

"No, you don't know him. You can’t trust him, Argyle," he tells me seriously. "That’s my father."

~

Samson sits across from me on the couch. He looks as stunned as I feel. I’m perched on the coffee table, close enough that his knees nearly knock into mine. I could bridge the distance between us, but it feels like the ground fell away from my feet and I’m not exactly sure where we stand.

Professor Solis is Samson’s father? Why didn’t either of them tell me? What the fiery hell is going on?

“So. Professor Solis is your father?”

“Yeah,” he says.

“The same father who taught you to surrender to magic instead of setting limits? The father you eventually ran away from? He’s your crazy fanatic father, that guy?”

"Yeah."

It’s really hard to argue with that. Doesn’t mean I understand. The professor who I trust and respect is actually Samson’s twisted father?

Yep, I may need more than a minute to digest this information. I struggle to put the pieces together.

“But—how, what… You don’t have the same last name.”

“Changed mine. Samson is my mother’s maiden name. I went to live with her family when I left home, and we eventually reconciled after she left my dad."

One question down, I move onto the next. “Did you know he was teaching here?”

“That was a fun surprise I found out after the semester started.” Samson laughs bitterly and I bet this ‘fun’ surprise resulted in starting several small fires. “Thought about dropping out. I seriously considered it. But I’m here on a scholarship because of my grades academically, and I think they’re interested in seeing whether someone who had the worst start can turn it around and earn a brand. There's no guarantee another university will feel the same and want to take a chance on me.”

"Oh," I say. It feels like I should say something and that's all I can manage.

“So, he’s really your professor?” Samson asks, shaking his head as if it's still sinking in for him too.

“Yeah. Medical Ethics and Law." Which is ironic considering the concerning lack of magical ethics that Samson has told me about.

“Dammit, I should have kept tabs on him,” Samson mutters. “Maybe I should have made a point to tell you that he taught here.”

“Why didn't you? Were you planning on telling me eventually?”

Samson leans back against the couch cushions and sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I thought about it, but I didn't even want to be aware he was teaching here. I've been trying to ignore him, living my life like he doesn’t exist. So long as he wasn’t teaching magic to anyone, I didn't want to know anything else about him. It's a big campus. I thought we could stay away from each other."

"I'm so sorry." My knee knocks into his, reminding him that he's not alone with this.

"No, I should be apologizing to you." Samson seems guilty when he looks up at me. “I'm so sorry you got caught in this mess with me and my awful excuse for a father."

“This isn't your fault. You have every right to not want to see him.”

"We don't see each other much, but it happens sometimes," Samson admits. "Saw him that night at Fusions."

"When you started losing control?" I ask gently, recalling how he had suddenly pushed me away.

"Yeah. I usually run the other way when I see him." Or hide behind trees. "But that place was packed and I couldn't get away fast enough. Started losing it halfway through our conversation, and I had to get away. That's when you found me. Aside from that night, we've only talked one other time. He was full of apology and regret." Samson scowls, making it clear how little he believed his father. "Told me he made a mistake teaching me magic how he did. Claimed that all he wants is to be in my life."

"And you said no," I conclude.

"I don't trust him. We aren't just living in the same city. He teaches at my school. He didn't say it in so many words, but I got the feeling I was a big part of why he's teaching here in the first place."

Which had two possible explanations. One, a deeply regretful father committed to repairing a relationship with his son and wanted to be close to him. Or two, an ulterior motive. I'm not sure I'd give him the benefit of the doubt either.

"I can't believe he's even allowed to teach here." Teaching ethics to others. The thought makes my stomach churn.

"He doesn't have a record or anything. He's just a fanatic taught by a lunatic. Doubt the school knew anything about it. I filed an anonymous complaint, but nothing came of it."

"You could try again," I suggest. "Come forward as yourself."

"My dad hasn't been a regular part of my life since I was 16. That was 10 years ago. I don't have any direct proof he's lying. He swears he's changed, that he was just a foolish, weak caster who bought into the wrong advice. But I just don’t trust him and don’t want anything to do with him."

This little revelation has sent me reeling, and it must be 1,000 times worse for him. Yet he can't really give into those feelings. I see how he stiffens on the couch and how tightly he holds himself together, the way his fingers curl into fists at his sides. It pains me to witness his struggle.

Samson groans, tipping his head back against the couch. "God, I really need to set something on fire."

"My roommate works three jobs and can't afford to trash his apartment," I warn him, mostly joking.

Samson's lips quirk up in a half-smile. "I'll rein it in," he promises.

The tension eases somewhat, but I still know Samson is fighting to keep his emotions at bay. All because of what my supposedly friendly and helpful professor taught him as a child. I want to set several things on fire myself. Solis hasn’t done anything malicious while they’ve been on campus, but he's definitely testing the boundaries his son set instead of staying out of his business.

"The professor hasn't let on that you have any connection to him, but he has been giving me advice that applies to you too." I shake my head in disbelief. "And he set up our tutoring and arranged it through Liam even though neither of us are in his class."

Samson nods, his expression grim. "He knew I wouldn't agree to anything he had a hand in.”

Liam tutors struggling magical students sometimes, and he's a close friend of mine, so I hadn't given it a second thought when he arranged our tutoring sessions.

"Solis is also the one who encouraged us to try blending our powers," I reveal. "He's been subtly influencing us this whole time. I just don't understand why."

Samson's jaw tightens. "He always has an agenda."

The unfairness of the situation makes my blood boil. Professor Solis has been playing us, and right now, we're powerless to do anything about it.

"We'll figure this out," I promise. "We won't let him get away with this."

"Damn right we won't."

It's too early in the morning to deal with secret identities and nefarious motives. I suddenly feel drained. Maybe I should have him make another pot of coffee. I rise from the coffee and table and Samson moves his knees so I can get around him. Not going far, I tip myself onto the couch next to him.

Hard to believe I started the morning thinking my biggest problem was hooking up with a guy who avoided me like the plague the next morning. Instead, he saw me talking to his estranged father and hid to avoid being seen by him.

Even though it would be awful for me personally, I almost wish it had been about me. Samson just having second thoughts about what turned out to be a meaningless hook up. He doesn't deserve to go through this.

"God, what a mess," I murmur, shaking my head. "I can't believe I was upset earlier. I—" I pause. Samson has enough to worry about without this misunderstanding. "Never mind."

Of course, that clever mind of his gets to work and figures out what I'd been about to say in no time.

He twists on the couch to look at me. "Just to be clear, I don't want my dad in my life. Cutting him out was the right choice. I was hiding from him, not you."

"Yeah," I say with a small smile. "I put that together."

"What I told you last night was the truth," he promises, taking my hand. "I'm done running from things that make me feel something. Even if I have to pace myself and can't just let go, I can't make progress if I don't start giving myself chances to balance my feelings and my powers."

"That sounds sensible," I say.

"Good. Because I'm not sure I could stop seeing you. I really like having you in my life."

Oof. Even when dealing with family drama, he was still a sweet talker. He was definitely going to be a hazard to my health if he kept saying things like that, but I didn't really mind.

"Okay," I say. "Good to know." A sheepish tone creeps into my voice. "I might have been a little upset when I thought you were trying to get away from me."

Samson chuckles. "A little? You were pissed. The crazy part is that having you there helped. Even though you were telling me off and had this righteously annoyed pout on your face, I focused on you instead of my father and I was able to stay in control."

"Pouting? I wasn't pouting!" I protest, though I can't help the smile that tugs at my lips. He looks amused, and I realize there's no point in arguing. "And if I was, I thought it was justified in the moment. So, does that mean we're okay?"

Samson leans forward, brushing his lips against mine. "I'm okay with you. Are you okay with me?"

I cup his face, bringing his lips back to mine. "I'm okay."

In fact when he’s around, I feel much better than okay.