Once a Nerd Ch. 12 - Sex Stories

Once a Nerd Ch. 12

... himself to the extreme when we're together, so it was easy to forget about that listless chucklehead who once sat at the back of my class.

"As long as I have you, I don't give a shit what our life looks like. Fuck a wedding, I don't give a shit if I have kids. If you want those things, I'll make it happen. I'll follow your lead, whatever you want. I don't care who knows, and I give even less of a damn about who approves."

That's what he said, as if prior to me, he had no dreams or aspirations of his own. Or, if he did, they were insignificant and halfhearted. From the beginning, Dean's alwaysprioritized me. This very dinner is a prime example of that, like Casey said. Instead of basking in the hero-worship of his peers, he went to great lengths to spend this time withme. He's never made me feel like anything less than the most important thing in the world, and that epiphany knocks the wind out of me.

Dean's unabashed love...

I'm suddenly greedy for it. I can feel the scale tipped between us. I've spent all our time together keeping him at arm's length. I wholeheartedly believed it was the right thing to do, and it still might be. Now, I feel terribly guilty for it. Receiving so much, giving so little. Dean gets so worked up over the smallest concessions from me, and that's...fucking depressing. It makes me feel like shit.

I struggle to even spare him a kind, honest word.

He doesn't seem...bothered by it, but shouldn't he be? Won't he be, someday?

Thus, an ...

... impromptu confession, the consequences of which—permanent rearrangement of my spinal discs. He joked about pushing my wheelchair around, but it's in the realm of possibility if he doesn'ttone it the fuck down. It's been a week and half since, and I've made a conscious effort to initiate conversation between us. For individuals in a romantic relationship, it's the least of what I should do, but I'm still coming to terms with that. Baby steps, okay?

Teen—ager.

Teen.

Maybe I'll feel less of a monster about all this when he's twenty. Or, maybe I'll never fully get over it. Whether or not I do, I've reached this point of acceptance. Dean might be content with my meager end of things thus far, but he deserves someone who's unafraid to be just as crazy about him. He deserves my sincerity, my initiative, my kindness. He's not expressly said anything about the sudden uptick in communication, that it's no longer a one-way street, but I know he's noticed. I can hear the smile in his voice when he picks up the phone.

On Wednesday, the first official day of our Thanksgiving break, Dean had nothing to do outside of some last minute coursework and his own, personal gym routine. We were on and off the phone for most of the day. I had my own assignments to keep me busy, as well as my best attempt at a homemade pumpkin pie for Mom's shindig. During said confectionary venture, I propped my phone against the knife-block for a hands-free FaceTime. I didn't think anything of answering ...