“What a douchebag,” Ryder says as he hands me the laptop. “Professional rivalry keeps you sharp.” I pat him on the shoulder. “You’ll know you’ve made it in academia when you get your very own douchebag to heckle your lectures.” His tight smile holds a menacing weight. “Not sure how you didn’t punch him,” he says. “I would have. I like the concept of taking it back to our primitive roots.” I sling the leather strap over my shoulder. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” I halt at the door to say, “But if you do, record it and send it to me.”
