Once a Nerd Ch. 12 - Sex Stories

Once a Nerd Ch. 12

... dry towel draped over my face. Most of us are naked save for modesty towels, since showers are next on the agenda. Max, Jaylin, and Shawn take up the benches opposite me, as well as three more guys filling the wall furthest from the door: Marcus, Caleb, and Richie.

Their inane chatter is gibberish for how little attention I'm paying it, just a collection of gruff sounds bumping off the porous walls. I don't realize I'm being addressed until Jaylin raises his voice an octave: "Dean!"

Without lifting my head or removing the towel:"—what?"

"Damn, dude, did you pass out?"

Richie, a linemen as beefy as they come, snorts. "He wasin the zone, Cahill."

"What fuckin' zone?"

"Probably the bone zone, fantasizing about that dime he bagged."

God in Heaven,spare me.

"Who?" Marcus asks, somehow out of the loop. He does sleep, eat, and shit with buds plugging his ears. They're waterproof, so he showers with 'em half the time too.

"Cecilia Greene. She's in a few of our business pre-reqs."

"Oh,oh. Yeah, shit, she's bad as hell."

"Dean's been all up inher business." Shawn chortles.

I draw the line with puns. I can only take so much. Snatching the towel from my face, I raise my head to glare at whoever's in my line of sight. "For the love of fucking Christ, we'renot together." "Bullshit!" Jaylin accuses, laughing. "You should see 'em in Stat I,whispering and shit—"

"Hey, there's this new revolutionary thing calledbeing friendly. Making conversation? She's ...

... not into me like that, and I'm not into her like that."

"That'sinsane, man. Why not?"

I'm at my tipping point. Standing, there's more genuine acidity in my tone than I can reign in: "If you'rethat goddamn curious, ask her out yourself."

For a moment, it's piercingly quiet in the sauna as I step out of it. Just before the door snaps shut on my bare ass, Richie says, "Congratulations, Cahill, you pissed him off."

Through the door, Jaylin bursts: "Wha—? Me?! What the shit did I do?!"

To make matters worse, it's not as if I can crash out when I get back to the dorm. I have to wrap up those aforementioned assignments, both of which consist of an unholy amount of math. John's shit at math, and it isn't Sam's strongest subject either. Good ol' Google is all that's left to get me through this dark age. It's after seven when I get back, and John's sprawled across his bed in the midst of a mindless scroll through socials. He's courteous enough to pop an earbud out at my entrance.

"What's up your ass?"

If I open my mouth to answer now, it won't be anything John deserves to hear. I collapse on my own bed with enough force to make the springs squeal and slats groan, begrudgingly digging through my bag for my laptop and necessary textbooks. He eyes me bemusedly for a moment, but deduces further questions won't be taken well. We coexist in silence, and I manage thirty minutes of work.

One assignment is submitted, the other is four questions away. It's almost time to ...