Decline the necklace.

Jonathan is an archeology grad student, so I can’t believe that he would do something so foolish as to offer me an ancient necklace to wear. Doesn’t he know that human skin contains acids and oils that could rust the metal? I guess grad students are still students, after all.

“I think you’d better keep that, Jonathan,” I say, my response shaky but serious. I can feel my face becoming flushed with redness. He takes it as a sign that I might relent, but I decline once more, this time as firmly as I can. “No, Jonathan. I wouldn’t feel right about it.”

Dejectedly, the guy returns the necklace to its drawer and ultimately answers a few more of the questions I have, although with a little bit of sadness in his voice. I feel bad myself, having just disappointed the only boy in my whole life to show any kind of interest in me whatsoever.

A few minutes later I bid him farewell, having turned down his offer for an escort home (the dorm is just a five minute-walk away). He goes on without me as I make a stop in the ladies’ room before heading for the elevator. There I find a young man awaiting the next car, probably of similar age and height as Jonathan, though slightly stockier and with very straight, dark brown hair. He says hello.

“Hi,” I say, quietly, still feeling socially cautious after my last interaction.

“Are you in the archeology department?” the man asks.

“I’m a new transfer, actually,” I reply, “I just got into the major.”

“Cool,” he says, extending his hand to mine, “I’m Robert. I’m a graduate student. If you need any help or advice, feel free to talk to me. What’s your name?”

I tell him my name after a brief pause, having been surprised to meet another graduate student within the same hour. “I just met another grad student a few minutes ago!” I add happily.

Robert’s eyes narrow suddenly, as if suspicious of me. “Who?”

“Jonathan Fisk,” I say, “Is something wrong?”

The elevator car arrives and indicates that it is going down. Together we step inside, where this other grad student hits the button, then proceeds to give me a stern reprimand.

“Listen, I know this sounds bad, but you need to stay away from him. Okay? He is bad news for anybody,” he growls, brandishing a finger at me to drive the point home.

“But why—?”

“I…I can’t tell you why, but I know that he’s not the kind of person you want to hang around. Don’t trust him. Weird things happen in this place and he’s never far behind. And he’s a misogynist. And a bigot.”

I really can’t believe what I’m hearing. After Jonathan was so nice to me, how can I possibly believe these things? And how could Rose be such good friends with a person like that?

“He didn’t seem like that kind of person to me,” I say, calmly pleading Jonathan’s defense. “He was really nice to me.”

“Believe me,” my fiery companion retorts, “you don’t know him. And if you know what’s best for ya, you’ll stay away.”

The doors open, and the grad student storms away without another word. I’m speechless myself.