Free Worth the Trip by Penny McCall

of the fall leaves. She shrank back into a doorway, just her head peeking around the frame and all but vibrating with apprehension.
    No threat there. “You and I need to get some things straight,” he said to Norah.
    “If you’re about to tell me you’re in charge, you can save your breath.”
    “My first responsibility is staying alive and keeping you alive. I can’t do that if you won’t listen to me.”
    “Professor MacArthur?”
    “I have a perfectly sound mind—”
    “Which doesn’t do you any good when you have to act without thinking, like last night when you tried to coldcock me.”
    “Professor MacArthur?”
    “ What ,” they bellowed in unison, both whipping around.
    The dean’s secretary froze, but only for a split second before her eyes landed on Trip, her cheeks glowing the slightest shade of pink. “The dean would like to see you, Professor MacArthur,” she said, apparently forgetting her shyness.
    “I’ll wait for you out here,” Trip said.
    Norah hooked him by the arm and towed him into the dean’s office. “Maybe the dean and his secretary are conspiring to kidnap me.”
    “I doubt it.”
    Violence was not the first impression Raymond Kline, dean of the Midwest School of Psychology, made. Tall, thin, pale, sandy blond hair smoothed back from a receding hairline, and the sort of superior attitude that came from spending a lot of time in a self-made ivory tower. Dean Kline gave the impression that the mere suggestion of physical violence would make him faint dead away. He was also responsible for the safety of the entire student body, both character flaws Trip had used against him. And Norah. Which she was about to find out.
    “Trip,” Dean Kline said, smiling his thin, ascetic smile, his hand flaccid and just a bit damp when Trip shook it.
    “Raymond,” Trip said, squelching the urge to wipe his palm on his jeans. How Norah could have dated this guy was a complete mystery, Trip thought, which was beside the point.
    “You two know each other?” she said, which was obvious since they were on a first name basis, but she was just getting on board with reality, her expression boding ill for Trip. Hell, her expression would have boded ill for the Titanic .
    “Norah, why don’t you sit?” Kline suggested.
    The withering glance she sent them both was really just overkill for Trip. Kline didn’t get it. Kline thought he was in control of the situation. Trip lounged back against the wall, prepared to enjoy the verbal evisceration. Then she looked at him and he remembered his guts were in her sights, too.
    “Let me see if I have this right,” she said, pacing the length of the room and back. “The two of you got together and discussed the situation and decided what I should do.”
    “Now, Norah—”
    She whipped around and glared at Kline.
    He took a step back, caught himself, frowned, and stepped forward again, popping his chin up so he could stare down his nose at her. Moron.
    “My. Personal. Business,” she said, not raising her voice but enunciating each word very carefully.
    Trip couldn’t see her face, but this time when Kline stepped back he stayed there. He wasn’t smart enough to keep his mouth shut.
    “Since you’re going to be difficult about this,” Kline said, “I’ll get right to the point. I’ve decided it’s best if you take some time off. For the good of the student body.”
    “Time off?” Norah went so pale she was practically transparent, except for a spot of hot pink in each cheek. She held it together, though. Faced with losing what she treasured the most, she held it together.
    “You must see the logic in my decision,” Kline said.
    “Must I?”
    “In cases such as this I have full discretion. The board—”
    “You went to the board?”
    “Not yet, but I will if you make it necessary. Look, Norah, it’s for your own good. Considering our relationship—”
    “Our relationship is over.”
    “But—”
    “Over. Done. Finished.