Nate
THE PRINCESSES OF SILICON VALLEY-BOOK 4
By Anita Claire
Nate
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination, or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Editing by LisaCerasoli
Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc., http://www.gobookcoverdesign.com/
Text copyright © Anita Claire 2014, All rights reserved
Table of Contents
High School - 2002
Chapter 1 – Morning Hockey
Chapter 2 – Sara and Stephanie
Chapter 3 – Date
College - 2005
Chapter 4 – Frat Party
Chapter 5 – Hooking Up
Chapter 6 – Tattoo
Medical School - 2006
Chapter 7 – Medical School
Residence - 2010
Chapter 8 – Rochester
Chapter 9 – Brazilian Food
Chapter 10 – The Rules of Dating
Chapter 11 – Jacksonville
Chapter 12 – Dear John
California - 2015
Chapter 13 – Soccer Game
Chapter 14 – Revising My Morning Ritual
Chapter 15 – Wine Tasting
Chapter 16 – Moving
Chapter 17 – San Francisco
Chapter 18 – Hockey Game
Chapter 19 – Dinner at Cascal
Chapter 20 – The Next Day
Chapter 21 - Sunday
Chapter 22 – Football Game
Chapter 23 – Booty Calls
Chapter 24 – Holiday Party
Chapter 25 – Party at the Tech
Chapter 27 – Meeting the Family
Chapter 29 - Leland Hospital
Chapter 30 – Chinese New Year
Chapter 31 – The Men’s Room
Chapter 32 – Leigh
Chapter 33 – Dinner with Jamie
Chapter 34 - Luke
Chapter 35 – Chris
Chapter 36 – Ford
Epilogue
Appendix – A - Books in “The Princess of Silicon Valley” series
Appendix – B – Characters
Author’s Notes
More from Anita Claire
High School - 2002
Chapter 1 – Morning Hockey
It’s 5:30 in the morning, about twenty-five degrees outside, and pitch black. Before I can drive my car—actually my mom’s old navy blue Volvo station wagon—I need to let it warm up. I use this time to shave the snow and ice off my windshield. Stomping my feet to get the snow off the bottom of my boots, I get in. Mindlessly munching on a granola bar, I listen to the crunch of the snow on my tires as I head over to my buddy, Matt’s. With one light honk, Matt emerges from his side door.
Throwing his bag in back, he kicks off the snow from his boots as he slouches into my passenger seat. After a quick, “Morning Nate,” he turns on my radio. We drive the three miles to the Pepsi Center in silence as we listen to Santana’s “Smooth” on the radio.
Matt and I currently play on our town’s Midget Major AAA hockey team. Our buddy, Chris, is playing AAA in Canada. Chris lives with a Canadian family as he aspires to become a professional hockey player. My parents refused to consider letting me enter the Canadian system. They’re focused on me finishing high school with good grades so I can get into a top college. My dad tells me I should use hockey as a college differentiator not a career. I’m a good student, I study hard, but there’s nothing I love more than being on the ice. Once the ref’s whistle blows my world narrows down. It’s just me and the eleven other guys. Pain, exhaustion, school, girls—nothing but the game is in my head. During a game I live for the sixty minutes of play. I love tuning out the world as I relentlessly seek the puck, or the guy who has the puck. The best rush ever is racing after some guy and taking him out. My hockey coach considers me his number one enforcer. I’m a big guy, relentless, having no fear, and I’m anything but a hot head.
By the time I’m home, the lights are on and my parents are up. I cruise to my room, shower, toss on my favorite jeans and a T—the one my mom hates because it’s black and the design makes me look bad. Then I hustle toward the kitchen. I’m starving. I’m always starving, even when I’m sleeping I dream about food. Mom already has four slices of bread in the toaster. I grab a big bowl and fill it up with half a box of corn flakes. I’m just hoping this, and the toast, gets me through to third period. Taking my seat at the table, Mom interrupts, “Nate, don’t think for a second you can leave your smelly hockey bag in the back hall. Move it now.”
After, picking up my bag and hauling it down to the basement, I retake my seat. Pulling out On the Road—the latest book I need to read for AP English—I mindlessly shovel food down my throat. Why they have me wasting my time reading about this loser is beyond me. I’m sure reading a stream of consciousness essays about some guy traveling around America doing drugs and listening to jazz music was novel back in the 1950’s. Today it seems like a boring episode of the Amazing Race. My AP Chemistry class is much more relevant and interesting.
Mom sets down a plate with a stack of toast and a jar of peanut butter. Dad walks into the kitchen, drinks down a glass of orange juice that was waiting for him, and grabs a bagel to go, as he heads for the door.
Before he leaves he says, “Son, is your game tonight at home or away?”
Mom replies, “The game tonight is in Tonawanda at nine.”
“It’s seven thirty.” I yell up the stairs, “Jamie, get your butt down here. I’m heading off to school in five minutes. If you’re not in the car, I’m leaving without you.”
I can hear Jamie banging around as she tries to get ready in time. As I place my bowl in the sink, Jamie comes clamoring down the stairs all in a huff with the back of her hair still wet as she looks through the pile of papers on the chair for her homework. Grabbing my coat, I pick up my backpack as I head for the door.
“Nate, just give me another minute,” Jamie whines as my mother joins her for the search.
As the car warms up Jamie comes flying out the front door, bagel in hand. “Will you stop at Starbucks so I can get a Latté?” she asks.
“Go to Starbucks on your own time. I’m meeting my friends before class; I don’t have time to feed your caffeine addiction,” I reply.
Chapter 2 – Sara and Stephanie
After picking up Dan at his house we trudge up the stairs and across the plaza heading to the cafeteria and the table my friends and I have staked out as our own. I played football in the fall and most of my friends are from the team. Sitting down with them I lean back in my chair and laugh as some of the guys goof on each other. Sara and Stephanie, two hot girls from our class, walk by eliciting a number of remarks from the guys. All year long Dan has had a thing for Sara. Sara is tall and thin, with long legs and perfectly sculpted blond hair, but no boobs; a deal crusher for me. Whereas Stephanie is more my type, she’s cute, curvy, with dark hair, and big boobs. They both smile and fling their hair as they give us a quick, “hi.”
Elbowing Dan I tell him, “Ask her out. I hear she broke up with the guy she was dating.”
Dan looks back studying her butt as he contemplates what I just said. “I’ll ask her out if you ask out Stephanie,” he negotiates.
“Shit, between hockey and four AP classes I don’t have enough time to sleep. Stephanie looks high maintenance. I’m more in the market for a hookup then a girlfriend. I really don’t have time for all the crazy.
”
Dan nods his head, “Yeah, but with a girlfriend you can get some regularly,” he says as he pumps his hand like he’s jacking off.
I nod my head as I tell him, “Just ask her out.”
As the bell rings, I head to my locker, stuffing my jacket inside. Some plain looking freshman whose locker is two from mine gives me a coy smile and a sweet, “Hi, Nate.”
Having no clue what her name is I give her a tip of my head and return a, “Hey.”
AP History is my first class. Ryan, my best friend from AP classes, sits in front of me. Poking him with my pencil, he maintains eye contact with our teacher as he reaches his hand up by his ear and gives me the finger.
After class he says, “Dick wad, what’s your problem?”
With a smile I say, “What, I thought you were falling asleep.”
“Man, I can’t afford to fall asleep. Colleges look at your junior grades. If mine fall off my parents will have my balls. You studying after school today?”
“Running first, I need to write my Language Arts paper before my game tonight.”
“What time are you playing?”
“Shit, not till nine. I’m already sleep deprived, and it’s Monday morning.”
Chapter 3 – Date
On Saturday night with my backpack in hand, I enter the kitchen to tell my parents, “I’m taking off to Matt’s for the night.”
“Please be home by noon. You have too much to do to hang out playing computer games at Matt’s house all day,” Mom reminds me.
Dad pulls out twenty dollars, “You boys heading out for pizza and wings?”
“Keep your money,” I tell dad. “I still have plenty from last summer.”
Last summer I had a cool gig working at a lab over at UB Medical School. My dad runs the ENT program at Buffalo General where he trains all the new docs. He’s considered an adjunct professor and has a lot of friends over at the medical school. Between my top grades in AP Biology and my dad’s connections, I got a job typically open only to college kids. The bonus of the job was Sara Nicolson—a pre-med student at U of R. Sara asked me what school I went to. When I said Amherst, the name of my high school she thought I was referring to the college in Massachusetts. Sara’s a cute nineteen-year-old with a good rack. She spent the first week flirting with me and we spent the rest of the summer having sex at her apartment. She never did learn that I was only sixteen.
After grabbing some food, Matt, Dan, and I head out to a party. Sara and Stephanie show up. Grabbing Dan I march him over to them. As I get Dan talking to Sara, I’m unable to control myself from flirting with Stephanie. Her lush red lips and big chest mesmerize me. A couple of beers have made me forget all the reasons I don’t need to get involved with this girl. It takes about one beer for me to convince Stephanie to check out the back room where I soon have my tongue down her throat and my hands on her ass.
The next week Dan tells me, “I want to ask out Sara. Dude, do you think we can make it a double date?”
. “Shit, Dan, Stephanie was fine to make out with at a party, but I really have no interest in more than that.”
Dan knows my weaknesses and arranges to get us Sabers’ tickets. Unfortunately, knowing I should decline and declining are two different things.
Now Stephanie thinks there’s more going on between us then there is. It’s obvious that both girls are psyched, while I’m wondering how I got in this mess. We head downtown early so we can get an Italian dinner at Chef’s. Taking city streets to the First Niagara Center, my car hits a couple of big potholes and both of my hubcaps come flying of my wheels. Now I’m driving with my hubcaps spinning ahead of us. We’re all in shock as we wonder what to do. Praying that no one gets hit with a fifty-mile-an-hour hub cap, we follow them for about two blocks. Finally they each start losing momentum and veer off to either side. Parking quickly, Dan and I take off in search. Finding them, we give each other a high five as we throw them in the back.
At the First Niagara Center we park and head to our seats. The puck drops and I’m enthralled.
Stephanie cuddles up to me and holds out her hand, “I just got a manicure, ‘Flirtatious Pink.’ What do you think?”
“What?”
“My nails,” she says as she wiggles her fingers, “Didn’t she do a great job? They match my lipstick.” I turn my head as she wiggles her fingers in front of her lips.
Pointing to the ice I say, “You gonna watch the game?”
She frowns and then rubs her head on my arm, “I even got a pedicure.”
“Do you need me to explain what’s happening?” I say as I point to the ice.
“Last week my nail color was ‘Mysterious Red.’ Doesn’t the name even sound sexy?”
Just then our guys make a great play that ends in a goal. I jump up and pump my fists screaming out, “YES!”
Sitting back down I say to Dan, “Can you believe that guy?”
“Yeah, did you see how he got around both defensemen and decked out the goalie?”
“Yeah, it was amazing,” I say, while reaching over Stephanie so Dan and I can high five each other.
Stephanie is sitting back in her seat with a scowl on her face. While I sit forward with my arms on my legs.
By the end of the evening, I decide that this is my first and last date with Stephanie. Knowing that I don’t want to see her anymore I still drop Sara off first, then Dan. Parking in Stephanie’s driveway I leave the car running as we make out. Since no one’s around, I get to touch a lot of nice warm skin and round boobs. Thinking about the condom I have in my wallet, I never get that far since her parents start flashing on and off their front lights. On the way home I realize what an idiot I am. Since we spent so much time making out she probably now thinks I like her.
College - 2005
Chapter 4 – Frat Party
My roommate, Mike, throws my dirty shirt at me as I sit at my desk studying. “Dickhead, you coming downstairs to the party?”
“Shit, what time is it? Man, I’ve got to put some more hours in.” I’m now in my second year at North Western. Normally that would make me a sophomore but since I’m in their six-year undergrad-medical school program, I’m technically considered a senior. There are pros and cons to the program I’m in. I like that I don’t have to apply to medical school and that it takes six years instead of eight to get my MD. But the work is intense, only to get more intense next year when I matriculate to medical school. On top of all my class work, I’m playing hockey, and I’m in a fraternity. It’s a sports fraternity and most of the guys have tutors to make it through the most basic majors. A few of us hockey players and most of the swimmers at my house are dealing with an academically rigorous program. Next year, when I move to the Medical School located at our Chicago campus, I’ll need to give up hockey. It’s was a hard decision to make when I chose this program, since hockey’s such an important part of my life.
Mike answers, “Nine p.m.—the girls are starting to show up.”
“Yeah, I’ll be down in a bit.”
Enjoying a party as much as the rest of the guys, I give myself another hour more to study before I brush my teeth, grab some condoms, and head downstairs.
The party’s in full swing when I enter our main room. The music is loud; the drinks are flowing, while the girls are dancing. Heading over to the keg, one of my buddies hands me a shot of Jack, as he says, “Nate, you need to catch up.”
Doing a round of shots with my brothers, I start scoping out the crowd. I’m getting good at picking out the right girls, that is—the right girls for me. Learning my lesson from high school, I don’t need to get stuck with another barnacle. My reputation on the ice as an enforcer gives me enough of a bad boy reputation to make the girls interested. It also doesn’t hurt that I’m a big guy from all the training and weight lifting.
Looking around, I zero in on a couple of potential girls. Still liking curvy, dark haired girls, I look to see who is drunk enough and loose enough to want a hookup. I never br
ing them back to my room. My plan is to either find some corner to screw them against the wall, use a bathroom, or if I’m lucky they’ll take me back to their place. That way I am free to leave after we’re done. College is so much better than high school.
Grabbing a beer chaser, I take a slow walk around the room; fist bumping my buddies as I zero in on tonight’s girl. A hot brunette with great curves, she’s showing off her rack, and gives me great eye contact and a wonderful smile. I can tell she’s up for some action. Smiling back, I give her a smile and eye contact as I head over to where she’s dancing. Learning early on that the quickest way to a hookup is honest flattery, I find the girl’s one superior trait and use it in my line.
In my most casual voice I lean into her ear and say, “Hey, I couldn’t miss you out here tonight. You have the most amazing smile.”
Wearing a tight black T that shows off the contours of my well-toned body, I can see the magic’s already working. She smiles as she runs her hands over my biceps. Appreciatively she says, “Wow, you really workout.”
Leaning in to her ear I say, “Hey, I’m Nate.”
Dancing around in a circle, she shows off her nice ass. When she turns back around she gets up on her tip toes to tell me, “Samantha.”
As we start dancing close a couple of her girlfriend’s check me out and give her the thumbs up. You don’t show up at a sports fraternity party unless you want to bed an athlete. It’s always a bit of barrel shooting to pick up a girl at one of our parties.
Samantha and I start dancing real close. It easy to see that she’s trying to turn me on, which is working. Leaning in she says, “What sport do you play?”
It kind of pisses me off that she doesn’t know who I am. The girls always know the football and basketball players. Leaning over, I cup my hand against her ear as I say, “Hockey.”
Nate (The Princesses of Silicon Valley - Book 4) Page 1