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What are they doing here? Oh god, I don’t want them to see me like this.
“What the hell did he do?” Bhodi demands.
I shake my head, unable to get the words out past the lump in my throat. “N-nothing,” I manage on my third or fourth attempt at speaking. “It’s fine. It’s nothing. I’m g-going to g-go to b-bed,” my voice breaks at the end and I turn and bolt for the stairs, too ashamed of myself to answer their pleas for me to stay and explain.
“I’ll kill him,” Bhodi growls as I disappear upstairs. “I’ll fucking kill him for hurting her again.”
“I think we’d better find out what’s happened,” Reef suggests.
“We don’t need to know what happened. All that matters is that Malia’s upset and that fucking dick is responsible. Again. I say we just beat the shit out of him.”
“Let’s go after him,” I suggest. “I think he owes us an explanation at least.”
“Good idea,” Bhodi agrees.
“Someone has to stay here with Malia,” Reef says.
“I don’t think she wants company,” Bhodi points out.
“Yeah, but we still can’t leave her alone. Bhodi, you stay.”
“What? No way! I want to kill the prof. I’m not missing out on all the fun.”
“It’s not going to be fun, idiot,” I snap. “You’re in the best position to protect Malia out of the three of us if anything happens.”
It works like a charm, Bhodi puffing out his chest like a proud peacock.
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. It should be me who stays. I can protect her.”
“Great, glad we’ve settled that then,” Reef snorts.
“You guys have your phones on you, right?” Bhodi asks.
“Yeah. Call if you need us.”
“Will do, but I expect I’ll be fine. I’ll give Malia half an hour and then check if she’s alright, take her a drink or some chocolate or something.”
“Alright. Hopefully this won’t take long,” I say.
“Try and get him to apologise. He can’t keep upsetting her like this. It’s like every time we take a step forwards with her, he comes along and pushes us all back three paces. I’m sick of it.”
I agree with him, we say our goodbyes, and Reef and I leave the beach house.
There’s no sign of the professor on the beach, and the short walk to the garage reveals his car has gone. He usually only uses it in emergencies so I know this means he’s worked up.
“Shall we take the golf cart? He’s probably en route to a bar in town somewhere.”
I sigh, knowing Reef’s right. “Yeah. Let’s take the buggy, it’ll get us there quicker and can hopefully minimise the damage he does.”
Obviously, we take the prof’s modified golf cart, which gets us into town much quicker than the university’s standard issue, and it only takes three wrong turns before we find the prof in a dark backstreet bar.
He scowls and knocks his drink back when he sees us walk in, before signalling to the bartender for another. I shake my head. Great, he’s probably half cut already.
“Go home, kids,” he sighs when we approach him.
It gets my back up when he’s like this. Patronising. The age gap between us isn’t that pronounced and we sure as shit aren’t kids, even if we’re masquerading as students right now.
Reef claps him on the back a little harder than is necessary, and I spy an empty table in the back corner. Nodding to Reef to indicate that I’m going to grab it, I leave him to drag the prof over. We need to talk, and sitting at the busy bar is not the best place for it.
