The Hedonist Read Online Free Page A

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.”
    These 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 21century. 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