Nerdy Little Secret

by Aarons, Carrie

  But it’s ingrained in me. This need to appear like the perfect, carefree it-girl. Nothing bad happens in my life, that’s what I was always taught to portray. The ugly, terrible things we did were swept under the carpet or neatly arranged behind the curtains. And I also don’t want to see the pity in their eyes; something about being vulnerable with people has always unnerved me. It’s bad enough that Mick knows my secret, I wake up in a cold sweat some nights just wondering what he truly thinks of me because of my current predicament.

  So I take a chance. “Really, that’s weird? Well, it’s a big lecture.”

  I have no idea if it’s a big lecture or not, I’m just sending that one out as a Hail Mary.

  “Hmm, I thought that one was only fifty people?” Madison says, as if she knows.

  “That’s still a lot of people in there,” I argue, starting to feel the sweat dripping down my neck. “Wait, which class is that?”

  Christine rolls her eyes. “You can never remember your schedule. It’s Tuesday and Thursdays at two p.m.”

  I snap my fingers, lying on the spot. “Oh, you know what? She may have forgotten, because I wasn’t there last class. Yeah, walked in, and immediately felt that familiar rush. Aunt Flow time, if you get what I mean.”

  Madison groans. “Ugh, I hate when that happens. It’s like your whole week is going well, and then there is suddenly blood in the water.”

  “Shark week.” Christine giggles.

  “Yes!” I slap my knee, as if this period emergency was really serious. “I had to go back to the house, rummage around for a tampon, and all we had were pads. So by that point, I figured I’d call it a day. Went to the store, picked up tampons and a pint of ice cream. It was medicine, really.”

  They both nod gravely.

  “You deserved it. I remember this one time, I had a tampon fall out of my purse in middle school. I was mortified. All of these boys saw it, and I lied and said I had to go to the nurse to go home. Can you imagine? Now I’m like, shit, if you want to have sex on my period, I’m all for it.” Christine shrugs.

  “You like period sex? I’ve always found it so messy.” Madison looks mildly grossed out.

  “I’ll only do it with someone I’ve been seeing or hooking up with for a while,” I add, not feeling one way or the other. “If it’s a new guy, definitely no. You gotta give them the best version of the … puss.”

  My girlfriends crack up, and I’m just glad we’re not on the hot topic of my class schedule anymore.

  “I agree. If I’m not freshly shaved with some sprays of perfume down there, I’m not offering it up.” Madison bites into one of her pieces of grilled chicken as if this is nuclear science we’re talking about.

  “As if you don’t shave clean before we go out every single night of the weekend.” Christine rolls her eyes.

  I hold my hand up. “Hey, you never do know when a hot guy will come your way. You have to be prepared.”

  “But if you’re prepared, then you’re always going to be DTF. And sometimes, that’s just desperate.” Christine steals one of my pieces of sushi off my plate and pops it in her mouth.

  “Did you really just say DTF? That makes it sound way sluttier than anything.” I chuckle, laughing at her use of the acronym for down to fuck. “Not that I think being ready to go at any moment is desperate or slutty. Listen, I enjoy sex. I enjoy it with different partners, or the same one for a while. I like experimenting, and it makes you feel good. I don’t see how that could ever be a bad thing. Wrap it up, be safe, and be prepared at all times to get naked and freaky.”

  Madison starts clapping. “Amen, girl. Yes!”

  Christine has a different opinion, and we all know it, so she keeps her mouth shut about that, but pipes up about period sex.

  “Whatever. I’m just saying, I don’t want to get menstrual blood all over a random stranger’s penis.”

  I make a barfing noise. “Okay, we’re eating.”

  “Let’s talk about the biggest penis you’ve ever seen!” Madison pipes up, and I’m pretty sure the table next to us is definitely listening to our conversation.

  My mind flashes back to Mick, and I’m momentarily sad that I probably won’t ever see it again. Or get to play with it.

  Madison starts chattering on about cocks and piercings, and I’m just relieved that the talk of my course schedule has turned into sex talk.

  16

  Mick

  The Salem Walsh Campus Center is packed full of students, tickets dangling from their fingers.

  I wait in line, flutters of excitement moving through my stomach at the prospect of getting to see this show. One great part of being at a top-notch university is that musical acts and comedians make tour stops at your school.

  Anthony Render, one of my favorite comedians, was put on the schedule of events at Campus Center a month ago, and I’d woken up at six a.m. to grab my ticket online. None of the other guys in my dorm suite got tickets, because they’d woken up too late, but I’m okay with going alone. It’s going to be a relaxing night off for me, one where I can laugh and put my problems aside for an hour or two.

  After I get my ticket scanned, I head into the Campus Center Arena. It’s a big theater where all the touring acts perform, and the whole place is draped in navy and gold.

  The seating is first come, first serve in the four-thousand-seat arena, and I carefully make my way around the people lining up for the first row. Have they ever been to a comedy show? Don’t they know that the people in the front row are often the ones being made the butt of the joke by the comedian? I love Anthony Render’s jokes, but I’m going to pick a seat about eight rows back, in the corner, where he can’t see me and make fun of the covalent bonds pun shirt I’m wearing.

  Jolie and I see each other at the same time, as we enter the row from different sides, and both do a double take.

  “Hi,” she says, seeming kind of stunned.

  “Uh, hi,” I say, my feet moving me toward her because there are other people trying to come into the row.

  She entered from the empty side, and must have walked all the way around to get a seat closer to the far wall. What I’m most surprised about is the fact that she appears to be alone.

  “Are you, do you need these seats for people?” I ask, pointing to the one directly next to her as we stand there awkwardly.

  Jolie shakes her long brown mane. “Nope, just me.”

  “Oh,” I say.

  We’re basically standing in front of the last two seats available in the row, and how weird is it that fate brought us to these two seats at this moment? I could have picked anywhere else in the arena to sit, as could she. I find it strange she’s even here to see this comedian, but maybe she just likes to come to campus events.

  “Should we … do you care if we sit next to each other?” she asks.

  There have been three study sessions total since we went out to the seafood shack, and they’ve been nothing but behaved and platonic. We usually meet for about half an hour in the library, go over her workbooks or packets, and then part ways. We haven’t texted aside from meetup times, and I’ve not attended any more parties where I have to save her from breaking her neck.

  Each time we’re together, I know we’re both edging away from the cliff of suggesting we hang out more. But now we’re here, and it would be extremely awkward to refuse to sit next to her. We’d have to shuffle our way out of the row, and it’s … harmless. It’s just a seat. Right?

  “Yeah, sure.” I sit down, adjusting my wallet in my back pocket.

  Jolie sits next to me, her familiar scent wafting my way as she sticks her purse under her chair. Per usual, I have to actively try to stop checking her out. She has on this long-sleeve shirt with a V-neck, and when she bends a certain way, I can see right down into her cleavage. I’m not that guy, the one who leers, but with Jolie, I can’t help it.

  “Do you like this comedian?” she asks politely.

  I nod. “He’s one of my favorites. Can’t belie
ve I get to see him as a student for free. How about you?”

  “Oh, I love Anthony Render. One of my friends from home got us tickets to see his stand-up routine in New York two years ago, and I’ve been obsessed ever since.”

  I remember watching that special on Comedy Central. “Wow, you were at that show?”

  “Yeah, he’s just hilarious. I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to come see him. My friends weren’t interested, so figured I’d come alone.” Jolie pauses. “I’m kind of glad I did. Gives us a chance to hang out.”

  The way she says it, in that shy, cautious way, makes my heart crumble. This is not a woman who is hesitant or unsure about almost anything. She’s confident and brash. Knowing that I make her feel the same way she makes me feel is … well, it makes my stomach dip.

  Jolie chuckles a little, but says nothing.

  “What?” I ask.

  “It’s nothing. Just think it’s funny that we both like this comedian. I mean, I know a lot of other people love him, too, but you and I don’t have much in common. It’s nice to discover something that we do have in common.”

  I hadn’t thought about this before. “I guess that’s true. Although, for the record, we don’t have to have things in common. I still like you as a person.”

  Jolie turns her full gaze to me then, her expression unreadable. We just look at each other, probably for too long, but I can’t stop.

  We’re saved by Anthony Render, who is announced at the exact moment Jolie looks like she’s about to say something. The lights go down and he comes onstage, so we turn our attention that way.

  As we sit next to each other, my elbow on the armrest and her hand on her thigh, I can’t help but feel the energy between us. It’s electric, radiating off the sides of our bodies. It feels like at any moment, a static spark could explode without us even touching. I swear, I can hear Jolie’s breathing increase, my own coming out in labored puffs. I have to adjust, because for some reason, my cock has risen to attention.

  Maybe it’s that it’s dark in here, or that she’s so close I can almost feel the hairs on her arms. Either way, I’m one second from letting the words off the tip of my tongue. Of suggesting we get out of here, because if she clears her throat again in that sexy, groaning way, I’m going to rip her shirt off right here in this audience.

  I try to focus on the comedy show, I really do, but all my brain seems to want to address is Jolie’s body being inches from mine. She starts drumming her hand on her thigh, and … did she just squirm?

  I’m doomed.

  It seems like hours that I sit here, trying to calm my wildly beating heart and talk my penis under control. Finally, when the lights come up, a bit of the spell is broken, but neither of us moves as the crowd begins to empty out.

  “That was really funny,” she says, scooting to the edge of her seat but not standing.

  “He’s great,” I agree, sitting up straighter, but also not standing.

  A beat passes, and I feel myself falling into her. Her familiarity, the way I feel around her, how she keeps surprising me. I don’t want this to end, and actually had a better time tonight than I have in, well, since we spent the summer together.

  “Do you—” I begin, but Jolie cuts me off.

  “Well, I should probably get home. I have another biology quiz tomorrow, and we both know how much I need to pass.” She laughs quietly.

  She made the decision for both of us, stomping on the embers that were building. It’s for the best, I know that, but I can’t help the disappointment that sits in my gut. Jolie is only following the boundaries I’ve set in place. And they’re necessary. But for a split-second, I wish they weren’t.

  “Yeah, I should get back, too.” I nod in agreement. We both stand, facing each other. “Well, good luck on your quiz tomorrow.”

  It feels like I should lean in, maybe brush a kiss on her cheek or give her a hug. But that would be so far over the line I’ve put between us, and I have to physically plant my feet to the floor.

  Then we walk to opposite sides of the row. And I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t turn back to see if she had too.

  17

  Jolie

  “Thanks for coming over, I just had to wait here for the repair guy.”

  I usher Mick into my off-campus house, and it’s strange that he’s standing here, in my living room. He’s so tall that the ceilings seem lower, and from the moment he stepped inside just now, that familiar buzz started between us.

  “No problem, I didn’t realize you were so close to campus,” he says, looking around our ranch.

  I want to know what he sees from his eyes. It’s a cozy place, with a beige sectional couch Christine’s parents let us take to school and a flat-screen TV my dad bought us. From the small living room, it opens up into the kitchen, with the counters littered with our diet food and alcohol. From there a hallway shoots off, where three small but single bedrooms are.

  “Welcome to our humble abode. It’s not much, but it serves its purpose.” I wave a hand around.

  Mick nods, and I think we’re both aware that we’re alone in a quiet house. “It’s nice. Better than a loud dorm and a communal bathroom.”

  I cringe. “I forgot those days. We’ve only been here for a couple of months, and I wouldn’t go back for a million dollars. How many roommates do you have?”

  “Four. They’re cool, though. It’s better than my parents’ house and commuting to community college.” Mick fiddles with the backpack on his shoulder.

  “Wait, you went to community college?” My jaw practically unhinges at his words.

  Mick’s eyes twinkle with taunting. “Yeah, didn’t I mention that?”

  “You most definitely did not! Here I was, feeling like a total fuckup compared to the genius future scientist tutoring me, and all along you were in the same position! You went to community before you transferred here? Why?”

  It’s not like he couldn’t have gotten into any of the top colleges. Jesus, Mick had probably gotten a perfect score on the SATs.

  He shrugs. “I had family stuff at home. I couldn’t leave, so I enrolled at the community college until I could.”

  It’s the only other time he’s mentioned those problems and secrets he has to focus on, and I don’t want to ask what they are. If he wants a shoulder, he’ll lean on mine, and clearly he doesn’t.

  “I didn’t realize that. You must be glad to be here.”

  “You have no idea,” he mutters, and a part of me hopes he’s not just talking about Salem Walsh.

  But that he’s talking about my house.

  We for sure almost slept together the other night. If either one of us had been a little more bold, or I’d had one sip of wine, we would have been back at one of our places, screwing each other’s brains out.

  “When is this repair guy supposed to get here?” he asks, breaking the tension.

  I look at my phone. “He said between five and eight, and of course both my roommates had clubs going on, so I’m stuck here. Thanks for coming to study, we just need our washer and dryer fixed.”

  “Wouldn’t want to mess up your laundry schedule.” His deep voice worms its way between my thighs.

  I physically shake my shoulders and try to talk myself out of trying to jump his bones. “So, should we start?”

  Walking into the kitchen, I feel Mick following me, and my skin tingles. I’m so on edge, that when we start taking out our supplies and notebooks, I jump up.

  “If we’re talking about meiosis, I need a drink. You’re having a drink with me,” I tell him, not taking no for an answer. “It’s been a hell of a day already, what with the broken appliances. You can’t say no.”

  Mick seems to pause, and then holds up his hands, relenting. “Fine. But no tequila. And no beer.”

  Tapping my finger to my chin and surveying the liquor lineup on the counter, I make a decision. “How about the most gentlemanly drink of all? A gin and tonic?”

  “Fine.” Mick gives me a
small smile.

  I mix and pour our first drinks, handing him a plastic tumbler and clinking my cup against his. From there, we study, going over the most boring subject of all educational subjects. I’m retaining the information, but only because Mick is such a good teacher.

  An hour later, we’re two drinks in, and everything he says, I’m giggling at.

  “Chromosomes are not funny!” Mick says, finishing the dregs of his drink. “This is how we make up what sex a person is born as.”

  A very unflattering snort bursts past my lips. “You said sex.”

  Mick chuckles, his eyes a little drunk. “You’re right. I did. Can you please focus, Jolie?”

  “Gosh, this is just so boring. Let’s have another drink!” I clap my hands, standing to get the gin.

  “No, we’re not having another drink. I have to drive home after this, and I’m probably going to opt for walking as it is,” Mick admonishes me.

  And then I get an idea. It’s probably a bad idea, since it makes my heart scorch and the very core of my belly melt with lust.

  “Well, what if we up the stakes?” I say in a flirty, sexy tone.

  He sits back, crosses those brawny, lean arms. “What does that mean?”

  “If you’re not going to let me have another drink, then I need another incentive. So, for every answer I get right, you have to remove a piece of clothing.”

  It’s bold of me, and I’m going against everything Mick and I agreed upon. That we should be strictly friends, that we have other problems to focus on. But I’m tipsy, and horny, and I miss him. Of all the guys I’ve been with, he’s hands down the best, and I miss sex, too.

  Mick’s emerald orbs flash, and I know he’s considering it. His rational brain is screaming no, but the two gin and tonics and me leaning toward him, flashing my cleavage have the thing below his waist screaming yes.