by Mia Luxe
The nickname “Brucy” tugs at my mind, but I can’t place it. Someone is speaking down to me.
My phone buzzes again and I grab it like I want to choke it to death.
Search “Washington Coast College gossip”
I rush to my laptop. I Google “Washington Coast College gossip” and click the first link.
I am taken to some shitty gossip page that has accusations of “this girl slept with my boyfriend” and “this hoe is a stripper!” next to pictures of hapless students.
How can scum like this site be legal?
Suddenly, a new post appears.
Is someone fucking their professor?
We’ve heard rumors that a little slut is sucking old professor dick for an easy A. Most shocking scandal since Professor Muntz!!! Stay tuned for more details when we found out what lil hoe has daddy issues ;) ;) ;)
Below the post is a picture.
The picture is of a young lady. Her face is obscured by a question mark. I look at the photo closely. It is not Olivia. Just some stock photo.
The threat is there. The blackmailer plans on putting the photo of Olivia and I up if I don’t comply.
My phone buzzes again.
The site allows anyone to post anonymously. What Im going to post next is going to be the biggest story yet.
I text back to the unknown number.
I can give you money.
I stare at my phone, waiting for the response. It comes back within seconds.
Tisk Tisk Tisk Brucy Boy. Its not time 2 get 2 business… yet ;) First I want u to prove ur serious
My knuckles turn white as I grip my phone. I want to choke whoever is sending me these texts.
I fight my anger.
I know I cannot antagonize them further or it might provoke them to post the pictures.
Whatever you need. I am serious.
My phone buzzes with the text and my eyes widen at the words.
Thats what I like to hear, Brucy Boy. Get naked for me. Allll the way naked. Send a pic… and I want to see ur scared face. U have 5 minutes or the photos get posted!!
I have no fucking clue why they want a picture of me. The fact that it has my face in it makes it seem like they want to use it for blackmail. What they don’t realize is that I can take the embarrassment of a nude photo leaking. It’s a drop of water compared to an ocean of pain if those photos of Olivia leak and ruin her academic career.
I strip down and take the photo in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to keep my expression neutral. If the rage I am filling is visible I know the blackmailer will be angry.
I have 3 minutes to spare.
I send the picture. I get a reply back within a minute.
Mmmmm, delicious. My big stud of a man. This isnt over yet, Brucy. U will be hearing from me.if u even go near that little slut, Ill post everything I know online and shell get what she deserves!
I have to think, and I have to think quickly.
My first call is to a man I have worked with for 10 years.
Mostly, I use him for background checks for high level positions. Occasionally I need him to deal with something more serious.
“Rick speaking.”
“It’s Bruce. I’ve got a big fucking problem.”
“I like big fucking problems. They lead to big fucking paychecks. What can I fix for you?”
“I need you to get in touch with some of your cop buddies and get a trace on this number.”
I read the number out for him.
“Got it. You want to tell me the issue, or is this sensitive? Either way, I can get you your information, but I might be of more service if you give me the details.”
I pause. I trust Rick, and there is no use letting embarrassment stop me from making the smartest move.
“They have three pictures of me in a compromising situation.”
I breathe in and out. Rick waits patiently.
“I’m kissing a student as I help her into an Uber near my building.”
“OK.”
Rick does not laugh. Rick does not pause. He just instantly says “OK” and I feel reassured.
“I’ll send the number over to one of my guys in the police. Be careful going after them. It’s most likely someone who knows you, knows how much money you make and where you live. Potentially a business associate that feels wronged.
“There’s more. I asked them what they wanted.”
“They? Do you have reason to believe there is more than one person?”
“No. I don’t even know if it’s a woman or a man. But I have my suspicions.”
“Why’s that?”
“I asked them if they wanted money and first they said to send a picture of me, nude. With my face in it.”
“They could be trying to get more leverage. They don’t know how much you care about your student. Did you send the picture?”
“Yes. I had to. They were going to publish the pictures of Olivia - that’s my girlfriend-”
Rick cuts me off.
“So it’s serious.”
“Yes.”
“OK. So they were going to publish pictures of Olivia, which would be bad for her. And it’s serious, so you complied with their demands. I understand.”
“The text I got back. I’ll read it out to you.”
I flick open the text.
Mmmmm, delicious. My big stud of a man. This isnt over yet, Brucy. U will be hearing from me.if u even go near that little slut, Ill post everything I know online and shell get what she deserves!
“Could be a woman, could be a man. You’re a good-looking guy Bruce. Do you remember anyone calling you by that name? Brucy?”
“No, that’s the thing. I don’t know. It’s more the tone that rings a bell. Brucy. It feels personal.”
He pauses for a second.
“The typos and grammatical mistakes seem a little unnatural. As if someone is trying to hide their own writing style.”
I nod in silent agreement.
“Yeah, that makes sense. I have this gut feeling someone is after more than just money.”
Rick coughs lightly, and I hear him grab a glass and take a drink.
“Alright. Well, it could still easily be someone who works for you, or potentially an ex-lover. We’ll know more soon. I can have the phone data for you tomorrow, but it might be a burner. If so we won’t be able to get much from it.”
“Get everything you can. This means everything to me. You know where to bill it to.”
“My second favorite part of these things.”
The situation is brutally serious, but I have to ask.
“Your favorite is catching these creeps.”
“No, seeing the money in the bank. Look, Bruce. If it gets serious, I can pull weight in the local rank and file. They can start a blackmailing case and scare off the person or persons who are doing this to you, or even get them in handcuffs. This is serious shit. Felony shit.”
“I hope it doesn’t come to that. I just want this over with. Whoever did this can walk free if it keeps Olivia safe.”
“Alright. You sit tight. Give me a call if you have any more contact from the blackmailer. The blackmailer wants you to sweat right now. He or she wants you to imagine the worst. Try to keep as calm as possible. I’m going to help you any way I can.”
“Good.”
“Oh, one last thing Bruce. I can hear that slowness in your voice. Don’t have any more to drink. You need your head to be clear right now. You’re the man. You are going to fix this. You are going to keep your woman safe.”
I nod to myself.
“I’ll be hearing from you,” I say, and hang up.
I put the bottle of whiskey back in the bar and pick up the crystal glass.
It shatters against the oven as I throw it with all my might, the shards flying through the air.
Foundation
Olivia Abernathy - Sunday Evening
I get into dorms barely keeping it together and Zoe is there to give me a huge hug
.
She holds me tight, not speaking, and sob erupts from me. This is all too much.
“I think Bruce is seeing someone else.”
We sit down on the beds, looking at each other. Zoe must have rushed down to the cafe to get me a coffee because there are two takeaway cups. She passes me one and I take a sip of the bitter liquid. It is warm and constant.
“What happened?”
“We had this perfect weekend together. He took me to this tiny little private island up the coast, close enough to row to. It was the best weekend of my life.”
I am crying now. Wet tears that aren’t just about Bruce. It is about everything. The stress of volleyball. The stress of school. The feeling of being far away from home. But most of all, it is about the handsome man who swept into my life like he owned it and threw everything on its head.
Zoe moves onto the bed beside me, a box of tissues in her hand. I can tell she was ready for this. She hands me one and I blow my nose, throwing the balled up tissue into the garbage can.
“And… Everything was perfect. Until we were in the motorboat going back. We hit cell service and I did not notice at first because you were blowing up my phone, but he started to get texts. A bunch of them.”
Zoe hugs me again. It is what I love about her. She does not ask me why I think texts, a natural, normal thing would be suspicious. She doesn’t call me paranoid or self-sabotaging.
At least not until she hears all the facts.
“Normally I wouldn’t think anything of it but you should have seen his face. He’s always so cocky, so confident. He looked… scared. Like his girlfriend found out about me. So I asked him if he was OK.”
Zoe hands me another tissue. I take a moment to get composed.
“He said he had business to attend to. Something urgent. It sounded like bullshit. He said he needed to go into the city, and fast. He dropped me off at the bus stop and said he’d call me when he can talk. Not that I can call him, or text him if I’m worried. Just that he’ll give me a call when he decides to, like I’m on call just waiting for him to tell me when to come around. God, I feel so alone.”
“You aren’t alone Olivia. You have me and you have the team. I don’t know that you can just jump to the conclusion of him having a girlfriend though. Did you see anything that would suggest it when you were at his penthouse?”
“No, nothing at all. It’s the most masculine bachelor pad I’ve ever seen.”
Zoe nods, sipping her coffee. I take a sip as well while it’s still nice and hot. My eyes feel red and tired.
“Well, there’s are two possibilities.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask her the question puzzled, my head cocked to the side.
“Either he is lying or he is telling the truth. Maybe he did have some big deal that he needed to get to pronto. It makes sense. Something could have happened during the weekend when he was out of cell service. He might need all his focus, which is why he doesn’t want you to call him, and he might have needed to get into town instantly, which is why he had to rush away.”
“And the other option?”
I ask the question with worry seeping into my tone. I don’t want Zoe to say I’m a sidechick, that he’s probably got a stable of young women just ready to attend to his needs.
“Well, the other option is that he’s either lying to you completely or just hiding something. The weirdest feeling I get is from him dropping you off at the bus stop. It would have added what, an extra 20 minutes to his commute to drive to dorms? So either something really went wrong at his business or…”
“Or he doesn’t want to be seen with me.”
Zoe nods.
“Shit,” I say.
“I know you’ve been careful, but is it possible someone saw you and him together?”
Her phone dings.
“I don’t think so. We’ve been pretty careful.”
My phone buzzes. We both look down at the same time.
Both Zoe and I have the same message on our phones, sent from Brandy in our volleyball group chat.
Professor Muntz all over again?
It’s a link to some dirty gossip website. We click it on Zoe’s phone since her screen is bigger and read it together.
Is someone fucking their professor?
We’ve heard rumors that a little slut is sucking old professor dick for an easy A. Most shocking scandal since Professor Muntz!!! Stay tuned for more details when we found out what lil hoe has daddy issues ;) ;) ;)
“Fuck,” I say. “I need to call him.”
I dial and call, and it goes straight to voice-mail. I hang up without leaving a message, tears streaming down my face.
Zoe passes me more tissues then gives me a huge hug.
“It might not mean you. That nasty gossip site has all sorts of shit. I’ve seen that same article, or variants on it, three times already. It could be a coincidence.”
“It doesn’t feel like a coincidence! What am I doing, what if this is the biggest mistake of my life?”
I’ve never even heard of that gossip website. Is it big? I need to find out what it is.
“You go on that gossip website often?”
“No, basically never. Some of the girls on the team like to go on it to laugh at the ridiculous accusations of boyfriend stealing some girls make. I bet most of the people at this campus have never even heard of it. It’s probably a coincidence. People love to gossip about professors and students, or professors and other professors - take a look.”
She types in the search bar “professor student”. Instantly, there are two full pages of people making wild guesses. Even Zoe’s Professor Santa isn’t safe. Seeing all the posts makes me relax a bit. It really does seem like it could be a complete coincidence.
Which brings me back to worry #1, that he has a girlfriend, or girlfriends, he didn’t tell me about.
“It’s not good that Bruce didn’t pick up,” says Zoe. “But you’ll see him tomorrow though. In class. Even if you two don’t talk you can get a sense of his mood. See if he looks like normal Bruce Harrison.”
Through my tears, I can’t help but say one last miserable thing.
“Maybe the gossip is a coincidence and Bruce is fucking another woman behind my back.”
Zoe holds me and I let myself cry out all my tension. She’s the only person I would let see me so vulnerable. The only person in this world I feel like I can trust right now.
I’m so stupid. What was I doing? Fuck, I have to see him tomorrow…
Damage Control
Olivia Abernathy - Monday Morning
For the first time in my life, I’m not early to Bruce’s class. I feel so nervous getting to the door and opening it. I’m scared to see him.
What if he acts like nothing happened? Is that better or worse than looking scared?
I stop at the top of the stairs as I see our Professor.
Or rather, the lack of our Professor.
A white-haired man in a sports coat is sitting with perfect posture at the desk.
We all file in, and he speaks.
“Welcome. Welcome. My name is Professor Fisher, and I will be teaching this lecture in lieu of Professor Harrison. Now then class. Please open your textbook to page -”
I don’t hear what page he says. I’m already up and storming out of the class. I can feel everyone’s eyes on me and I don’t care how rude I’m being. I barge out the door and walk back to dorms. Zoe is in a class, so I have the room all to myself.
First I scream into a pillow. The muffled sound makes me feel like I’m doing something, anything to fix this situation on my own.
I take out a piece of paper at the desk and sit down. I write the headline in all caps.
DAMAGE CONTROL
1. No more Bruce.
Bruce is hiding something from me. I will not be with a guy who hides things from me. Whether it is big or small, it doesn’t matter. I don’t trust him. This can’t be Eric 2.0! I need him OUT OF MY LIFE.
2. Academics
If someone does find out about me and Bruce, they might say that I’m getting marks that I don’t deserve. Next week is the last week that you can withdraw and get a W mark. Call admissions and figure out the impact on scholarship. I need to buckle down and focus in all my other classes.
3. Volleyball
We are just starting our road forward. I need to be present, focused, and ready to play. Stop thinking about anything except volleyball and school!
The list calms me. It feels real. I have steps I can follow to get my life back where it was before Bruce screwed it all up.
I grab my phone and call the admissions office.
It takes forty minutes before the useless front desk people pass me on through multiple different phone numbers to the person I need to speak with. She confirms that a single W mark will not impact my scholarship, but that I need to withdraw by the end of the week if I am going to do so.
She asks me the question in a bored voice.
“Would you like me to process the withdrawal?”
I pause. I think, just for a second.
Not yet.
“Not right now. Can I do it online?”
“Yes, you can. Through your student portal page. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“No, thank you.”
I hang up and send Zoe a quick message.
“I need to focus on school. Be my study buddy? ♥ Meet me at the library after your classes.”
Zoe will be finished by the evening. I’ll workout, get some work done, and meet her in the library tonight.
I put the phone down and let myself have a weak smile.
I don’t need any confusion right now. I just need to focus.
Burner
Bruce Harrison - Monday Afternoon
I hate the waiting game. Waiting for my phone to ring with information about the blackmailer or at least some demands. All I’m doing is sitting, wondering what is going on. I hate feeling powerless.
