The Hedonist Read online

  Shawn used to hate when his mother spoke to him like a child but he eventually became use to it and merely rolled his eyes.

  “I’ll be fine,” he assured her. “I’m a grown man.”

  She acted clingy before finally letting him leave. She made him promise to visit as often as possible and he offered to continue helping out with bills. But it wasn’t his money that his mother wanted as much as his time and attention.

  So he smiled and promised that he would call frequently and visit when his schedule permitted. The commute wasn’t long. Her home was only two hours away from his new residence in the city of Ashmore.

  Ashmore was a growing city but as the old saying goes, “old habits die hard.” It was a town-turned-city filled with older, conservative citizens. When Shawn made the move, he learned that nothing could prepare him for how quaint and conservative the city would be- at least from first appearances.

  The two biggest things the city had going for it were the university and the Wilmot Golf Tournament, or WGT. The WGT was an international tournament that attracted the most famous golf players on the planet. It was an event considered an extravaganza that lasted through the month of April and annually televised worldwide.

  On the other hand, Ashmore Regents University had been around for roughly a century. It was initially a small college but began to grow under the leadership of its latest president, Dr. Carlos Rodriguez. Shawn learned these details from other professors who only spoke sparsely.

  In fact, the disengagement among faculty surprised him. Everyone was on pins and needles and outside of staff meetings and the professors rarely associated with one another. Every now and then he would get minor details out of a few of them who spoke and he pieced the information together himself.

  Dr. Rodriguez’s vision was to transform ARU into a large-scale research university that attracted international attention. He consistently applied for state grants that allowed for the construction of larger buildings and before anyone knew it, Ashmore Regents had several thousand students and numerous large-scale facilities.

  Dr. Rodriguez began by gutting many of the departments. He fired the entire Nursing faculty and replaced them with instructors and professors who wouldn’t let students slide by with low grades. If ARU was going to become a large-scale research university, their science department had to be top notch.

  The next thing to go was the Social Work department. That department attracted a large urban population and that simply wasn’t acceptable for Dr. Rodriguez. Although he was raised in a poor town in Mexico, he placed his nose far in the air the moment he earned a PhD.

  He gradually disassembled the Social Work Department piece by piece. First, he stopped the program from receiving further funding. That meant the department was unable to hire new professors which he knew was a necessity for a thriving program. Then he forced the Ashmore Regents Director of Social Work out. This was done by refusing to grant her tenure and forcing other staff members to make unfounded complaints against her. If the staff members refused, he’d threaten them with the possibility of losing their own jobs to “cutbacks.”

  After the Social Work Director was ousted, the program was left with a total of only three staff members but required at least four professors to function as a full department. So that was the end of the Social Work program. The relatively small amount of money that the department was given was turned over to the Ashmore Regents Science Department for research purposes.

  Dr. Rodriguez was a shrewd man who’d commit any white collar crime necessary to make his college the best and biggest in the state. Unfortunately for him, his accomplishments were still very far from his ambitions. He knew it would take many more years to build the reputation he desired. He wanted his college to be known as “The Best and Boldest Research University in the South.”

  On a Tuesday afternoon, Shawn was in his luxurious office, stretched out in a large leather chair behind his desk. Sitting across from him was a 19 year old student named Ben. It was the third week of class and they had hit it off quite quickly.

  “I just wanted to say you’re definitely the coolest professor I’ve ever met,” Ben told him.

  “Yeah, I get that from time to time. I mean, I just like to have a good time.”

  “You can seriously relate to us.”

  “Yeah, what other option do I have? Be a fuckin’ stick in the mud like the rest of the bozos around here. Everyone’s already tight lipped here because of Rodriguez.”

  “What’s Dr. Rodriguez like?” Ben asked.

  “Eh… I’ve only met him a few times. His nose is way too far up his own ass for my tastes but the rumors are mostly true.”

  “So he wants to get rid of most of us?”

  “From what I understand, he does want to gradually phase out local students to make way for rich international kids. But if you ask me, it’s a pipe dream with no end.”

  “You know,” Ben said changing topics, “I wasn’t really sure what to major in but I think I want to go into political science like you, Dr. Stevens.”

  Stevens laughed, “Dude, call me Shawn. I don’t care about that formal stuff. Leave that for Rodriguez and his monkeys. But political science is a good direction to go. Y’know, I’m just coasting through life to be honest. And I’m having a blast.”

  “Yeah,” Ben agreed, “You look like you’re having a good time here.”

  “Dude, this is a freakin’ dream job. I only have to work a few hours each day and the research work is nonexistent!”

  They both began laughing hysterically.

  “You’re pretty unique,” Ben said favorable.

  “Yeah, keep piling that praise on. That’s how I get through the day,” Shawn grinned.

  “And I imagine the pay is pretty good too,” Ben continued.

  “Yeah, it’s pretty decent, my friend. I’m no medical doctor but I make it.”

  In fact, Shawn’s annual pay as an Assistant Professor was $70,000. It was far more than what he made at the community college but wasn’t quite enough to pay for his lavish lifestyle. Based purely on the credence of being a professor with a PhD at Ashmore Regents University, no credit company declined him.

  When Stevens moved he wanted a fancy new home so he began leasing a two-story, five bedroom house complete with its own pool in a nice neighbor. This was all despite living alone. He also used his credit line for the down payment on a silver Range Rover that was less than four years old. The credit that remained was used to purchase lavish suits, ties, and dress shirts. He bought a Rolex watch and justified it simply by saying, “I bought the cheapest one they had.”

  There was one oddity about his dress sense. He went through numerous dress shoes and disliked them all. He couldn’t wear house shoes to work so he settled on a pair of black All-Star Converses. Those shoes became his trademark look. He wore stylish suits and never paired his wardrobe with anything but his favorite black sneakers.

  On the fourth week of class, Stevens entered his large auditorium classroom and asked his students about the curriculum.

  “So what did you all learn in my class last week?” He paused and then continued, “Besides absolutely nothing?”

  Laughter broke out among the auditorium room.

  “Alright,” he said with a smile, “Before we begin, I just want everyone to know you’ll learn just as much this week as you did last week.”

  Stevens turned the classroom discussion to current events and partisan divide among political parties. It was enough to keep them occupied for the duration of the class. But shortly before class was over, he noticed the smile of a female student several rows away. He responded with a soft wink and her smile grew ten times wider.

  The class was so large that Stevens didn’t bother to learn the names of each pupil but as he expected, the smiling female student waited after class to speak to him. First, she had to wait for everyone else to get a word in. Stevens was so popular that throngs of students stayed after class just to shake his ha
nd or speak to him for a minute or two.

  The other students finally cleared and the young dark haired girl in shorts introduced herself.

  “Hi, Dr. Stevens. I’m Lauren Styles. I just wanted to mention how awesome you are… as a professor.”

  “Lauren Styles… styles for miles. That much is certain,” he said charmingly as she laughed. “Was that too cheesy, Lauren?”

  “No, not at all.”

  Her smile was as wide as ever.

  “Well thank you for taking the time to introduce yourself, Lauren. I’ve got a short meeting to attend soon but if you’d like, you can visit me in my office in about an hour.”

  While Stevens walked to the building that held the offices, he was met with weary-eyed stares by two professors along the way. The first was Dr. Mary Wilkins, the old Political Science Professor whom Dr. Daniels warned him about. Dr. Wilkins was not hostile but she was far from friendly. Stevens was slightly uneasy but held nothing against her as he knew that she was the professor who he was replacing. Despite her constantly pursed lips, he felt somewhat sorry for her.

  The other professor whose glance was always sharp toward Stevens was Dr. Hugo Sawther. Sawther was a strict Mormon-raised man who rarely spoke to Stevens. Stevens felt that Sawther was weary of him because he was perhaps too friendly towards his students. Dr. Sawther believed professors and other professionals should behave as if there were a barrier between them and those below them.

  “What a stick in the mud,” Stevens always thought before shrugging it off.

  After a brief meeting in which Stevens spoke with the Department Chair about how he should handle attendance count, he headed to his office to wind down.

  Stevens threw his briefcase to one side of the room, removed his jacket, loosened his tie, and plopped into his favorite leather chair. He had a small refrigerator placed next to his desk which contained bottles of water and a few snacks. Despite the campus being “officially dry,” he was still weighing the option of stock piling his fridge with vodka and olives.

  “Maybe next semester,” he chuckled to himself.

  A few minutes later there was a knock at the door.

  “Come on in!” Stevens said.

  In walked Lauren Styles, her glowing expression unchanged.

  “Hello, Dr. Stevens. Just wanted to stop by and say hi.”

  “Lauren, glad you could make it! Please… take a sit.”

  “Cool, thanks.”

  “Tell me a little bit about yourself.”

  “Well I’m from a small town you’ve probably never heard of and this is my second semester here.”

  “Great, so you’re 18… 19?”

  “Yeah, just turned 19.”

  “Then happy belated birthday. I remember being that age. But to be honest, I haven’t really changed much since those days.”

  “Really?” she asked with intrigue.

  “Yeah, I haven’t changed a bit. I mean, this job is just my way of remaining perennially adolescent. I just hang out kids like you and make a decent wad of cash. Talk about nice perks.”

  She laughed with great interest. “Too bad more professors aren’t like you.”

  “I’m one of a kind, Lauren.”

  She looked around his room and then back at him.

  “And you dress really nice. I love that tie.”

  “Oh, this old thing? It’s merely vintage Versace,” he said while holding up his blue and gold tie grasped by his index finger and thumb.

  “Wow, that’s a pretty expensive brand,” she said shyly.

  “Truth be told, a girl as gorgeous as you doesn’t need brand names like I do. I mean, without these snazzy clothes I’m hideous!”

  She began laughing and was quite won over.

  “I appreciate the compliment,” Lauren told him.

  In fact, she loved the attention he was showing her. A man she perceived to be of status was showing an interest in her and she couldn’t have been happier. She was now eager to spend more time with him.

  They spoke for about an hour and she blushed with every commendation. He went all out with the compliments, making her laugh and smile with each line he delivered. The greatest feeling was knowing that of the hundreds of students he taught, he was most interested in her. Finally Lauren told him that she had another class to attend.

  “Oh, Lauren, before you go… I was wondering if you’d perhaps like to have lunch with me sometime.”

  “That would be great, Dr. Stevens,” she said, grinning from ear to ear.

  “And call me ‘Shawn.’ All of my friends do.”

  “Okay, Shawn. Great!”

  A few days later, he invited her out to lunch. It went the same as their office meeting went. He made her feel great and she sang him praise of adoration in return.

  “You’re incredible… You’re amazing… You’re cool… smart… funny,” she told him each time they met. Just as when he worked at the community college, the reverence of young people was what fueled him.

  Lauren met with him after each class and each time he seemed sweeter than the last. They exchanged phone numbers and began communicating even more often than before. Back at her apartment, Lauren would not stop talking about Stevens to her roommates.

  “What else is going on between you two?” one of her friends asked.

  “Nothing, we’re just friends,” Lauren would say over and over.

  “Yeah, sure you are!”

  “I’m telling you the truth,” said Lauren. “I swear to you. I’ve never even been over to his house.”

  “You’re friends with your 40 year old professor?” asked the other roommate, “The dude sounds like a creep to me. What 40 year old man texts his teenage students. Red flags, Lauren, red flags!”

  Lauren was certain that her roommates were jealous and simply didn’t understand her friendship with her professor. Meanwhile, Stevens was becoming friendly with more and more students. Young adults flocked to him at every turn. By mid-February, he had collected more contacts in his phone than he had in the past few years combined.

  Life had never been better for Shawn Stevens. Or at least until faculty members became more suspicious of the friendships he forged with his students.

  CHAPTER 3

  Shawn Stevens was back to his old ways. He found countless friends in the young adults he taught at Ashmore Regents University. And Lauren Styles quickly became his favorite. She was astounded at the sheer number of things he had in common with people her age. Fast cars, nice clothes, and stories of hard partying not only swayed her, but most of the young adults he befriended.

  He didn’t go out of his way to become friends with several of his students. They generally drifted towards him. Before long, any student he wanted to hang out with was only one phone call away. Past partying was a favorite subject in particular to discuss. He liked to tell them stories about getting high in his college days and going on wild adventures.

  “That son of a bitch mixed an upper with a downer. He was so high that he grabbed a shotgun and threatened everyone in our dorm room,” Stevens would tell a group of students during lunch one day while serving as master raconteur.

  The each listened intently to every word as he continued.

  “But the dumbass didn’t realize that the shotgun was plastic. It was a novelty thing that I had bought… but we all decided to play along anyway.”

  The group of students he told this to laughed at every line.

  “I mean this guy was spaced out like Jimi Hendrix at Woodstock. I swear he thought he could chop down a mountain with the edge of his hand.”

  “Did he try firing at you?” a student asked.

  “Yeah, and he thought the gun jammed. He swore cops were hiding in the ceiling so he throws the plastic gun at the wall as hard as he can and it leaves a huge dent… So we’re trying to calm the guy down when he grabs a hammer and starts smashing all of the phones to pieces. He said the cops had bugged the entire dorm! It was one for the ages.”

  Thes
e were the sorts of stories they loved to hear. And the more he told them, the more he felt like reliving his glory days.

  “But don’t listen to any of these old bags that talk about ‘the good old days.’ Sure, the past had some great stuff but you guys today have it all. I’m totally jealous,” he told them. “I wish I was 20 years old in the 21 century. Even the drugs are better today. I mean, there’s a pill for everything.”

  Stevens rented a large house but it was half empty. There were sofas and a television in the living room but the family room was empty. There was a table in the dining room but nothing in the office room. His master bedroom was the only one of the five bedrooms that was furnished. Decorating a house was the last thing on his mind but that didn’t stop him from entertaining guests.

  He returned to similar behavior that got him sacked from his previous job. In late February he invited about two dozen students ranging from age 18-25 over to his house. He rationalized his way out of trouble by sending a mass text message that read “BYOB” or “Bring Your Own Beer.” If any 18-20 year olds had alcohol, he would not be to blame.

  That night the music blared from newly purchased stereo speakers. Pills were popped and beers were downed. The guys and girls played what they considered a fun game. The slowest person to finish three jello shots had to do laps in the pool.

  Stevens was mingling with various students and downing far too much alcohol when Lauren Styles approached him with a bottle of tequila in her hand.

  “Hey Shawn! This is the first time I’ve been to your house. It’s really big,” she buzzed.

  “Yeah, it’s empty but I’m working on that,” he said while loosening his tie.

  “Actually, an empty place is a really good idea if you’re going to have parties all the time. You won’t have to worry about stupid kids breaking stuff or stealing.”

  “Nah, I thing I just saw someone walking out with my television,” he laughed.

  A male student passed by and yelled out to Stevens.

  “Shawn, dude, you’re the only professor at ARU who kicks ass! Keep it up, my friend.”