Love is Always Write Anthology Bonus Volume

bail on your group. What did the others do to deserve this?"
    Alan shifted, but he didn't speak. I shook my head.
    "We just… would prefer not to work together, Professor. Alan and I." Alan didn't want anything to do with me, rather. I thought it was a bit extreme when he'd already punched me for my offense, but I wasn't in a position to push myself on him, even to save the project. "Alan is the director, but I'm completely replaceable at this point."
    "I asked what this is about," Professor Nieman said. She tried to catch Alan's eyes but he stared resolutely out the window. I met her stare, but I didn't answer her. She leaned back in her chair and steepled her hands.
    "In the good old days," she said, "I would have given you each a pair of boxing gloves and let you sort it out. But we live in a more civilized— or litigious— age, and besides it looks like you already tried that."
    Oh. Did… did Mallory think I'd hit Alan too? That would explain why she was so angry at me—
    "Is this," Professor Nieman asked, "a D&T issue?"
    "No!" Alan snapped, a half second before my denial. The university's Diversity and Tolerance policy was strict and swift. If Alan had really wanted rid of me, I wouldn't have stood much chance of defending myself considering the evidence of our faces.
    All the more reason I should have put some evidence on Kelly Lesniewski's face.
    "I'm glad to hear it." Professor Nieman picked up a sheaf of papers. "So here's what we're going to do," she said. "Lukas, I remember you enjoyed our rock-climbing expeditions your freshman year. And Alan, in one of your submitted segments, you looked very happy halfway up a cliff. Saturday the rock-climbing club is going up Two-Face and so are both of you. You'll work in a team, and you'll work stuff out."
    "Professor—" I began.
    "Let me finish. This is extra credit, to give your grades a chance to recover from your poor judgment in bringing this childish issue into your professional lives. Anyone who doesn't show up, fails the course. And I will not sign off to allow either of you to retake it. I don't teach at the middle school level for a reason."
    I don't know if Alan flushed, I didn't look at him. I know I did. Professor Nieman looked at him, at me, and nodded.
    "At ten, gentlemen, at the Janus trailhead. I'll look forward to it." She turned to look out the window. "Good afternoon."
    We didn't scurry out, exactly, but I know I hurried. Outside the door Alan stuck his hands in his pockets and took a deep breath.
    "Do you… need a ride?" I asked, and could have kicked myself. If he thought I pitied him—
    "I think I can handle it," Alan said, and walked away.
    ****

CHAPTER 5
    Saturday dawned with low threatening clouds, but it was dry and the weather report said we'd have sun by afternoon. The leaves had hit their peak, and the air had a nip that would feel good when I was sweating my way up Two-Face. I had to get up early to fit everything in, but I honestly wasn't sorry to be spending my day on the rocks. As I tossed my equipment bag in the truck, I tried to remember why I'd stopped climbing in the first place. Lilia came onto the porch with the big picnic basket, not the little lunch I'd packed.
    "Aunt Lilia—"
    "You said Alan would be there. He doesn't eat enough."
    "He ate everything in sight on Labor Day and was looking for more."
    "That just proves someone's not feeding him right."
    I didn't tell her he worked at Quikburger and had access to all the calories he could possibly need. I just put the basket in the back of the truck and hoped she hadn't gotten too creative. Lilia baked with the best of them. Cooking was another story. I kissed her temple and got in the truck before she went back for another installment.
    As I drove, I wondered about Lilia and Alan. It was no surprise that he adored her. She fed him cookies, patted and praised him and spoiled him— what self-respecting college student wouldn't return the love? The surprising part was that she acted like that. When I moved in Lilia had told me we had a business arrangement— that she expected us to be friends, but she wasn't a grandmother and she didn't mean to be. She liked meeting my friends, and she liked the praise when she baked for them. But I'd never seen her do the supposedly-standard old lady fattening-up process before she met Alan. If Mallory, who was built like a gazelle, never had a piece of pie pushed on her…
    Maybe Lilia had just spotted Alan's near-poverty a month