3. “Marge, try to understand. There are two kinds of college students jocks and nerds. As a jock, it is my duty to give nerds a hard time.” – Homer Simpson
Chapter 3
“Marge, try to understand. There are two kinds of college students: jocks and nerds. As a jock, it is my duty to give nerds a hard time.” – Homer Simpson
Dylan
“ W hat do you mean it’s not a big deal!” Hailey screamed at me down the phone. I’d decided not to tell her anything in school as I knew she would not let it drop and I would spend the rest of the day caught up in a whirlwind of questions and the ‘what if/imagine if’s that she seemed to love so much. “You mean he is going to be in your house, in your room, today?”
After I’d called Austin the moment I’d gotten home, yes maybe that was a little sad, we had arranged for him to come over to my house to plan our study sessions and which bits he needed the most help with. I had of course then run around the house like a raving lunatic screaming at my father and sister to clean up the mess in the house.
I had looked despairingly at the stack of magazines and newspapers on the side table next to my father’s chair, the coffee cup rings on the wooden table, and the smudges of makeup on the mirror in the hallway left there by my sister as she trowelled on whatever five-dollar drug store foundation her circle of witches, I mean friends, had instructed her to buy that week. Our mother would be spinning in her grave if she saw the fine layer of filth that seemed to cover each of the surfaces of her one pristine house, that is, if we hadn’t cremated her.
I’d loaded my arms with cleaning materials and done as much as I could before I’d looked at the clock and saw I only had thirty minutes before Austin was due to arrive. “I mean he is going to be in my room, but we are going to be studying. It will be like school, only this time I’ll be the teacher.”
I heard Hailey snort down the line. “I’m sure I’ve seen gay porn like that,” she chuckled.
“It will not be!” I scolded. “I am doing this to help a fellow student; he doesn’t want to see his grades drop and he wants this course to help him get onto some college course.”
“Yes, that was the dialogue in the porno!” she exclaimed happily.
I could see that I was not going to get anywhere constructive, so we said our goodbyes and I put down the phone. I looked around my room at the general tidiness compared to the rest of the bombsite that we had the nerve to call a home. As I stared at my face in the small mirror on the back of the door, a sharp knock made me jump backwards and my shoulder slammed into the side of my large pine wooden wardrobe.
“Hey dick, your boyfriend is at the door.” My younger sister’s voice grated on my nerves like ice on an exposed open tooth.
I whipped my door open and pinned her with an icy stare. “He is not my boyfriend,” I bit through gritted teeth, “and keep your fucking voice down.”
“There is a diary entry from the eighth grade in your closet that begs to differ.” She preened.
“You read my fucking diary.” I grabbed hold of a scarf that was hanging over the handle of my bedroom door and threw it towards her back as she retreated quickly around the corridor. The sound of her bedroom slamming mocked me, telling me she’d won this round. I made a note to plot vengeance and then made my way downstairs.
“Dylan there is a friend of yours at the door,” my dad called half-heartedly across the room from his armchair. The twenty-four-hour news cycle blared loudly across the living room, and his gaze never wavered from the flickering pictures of war, politics, and football. “They best not call off the football because of the rain,” he grumbled.
I looked out of the window at the top of the stairs, and sure enough, a heavy downpour had begun, a sheet of water covering the window, the pitter-patter of the droplets hitting sharply against the guttering and roof above. Realizing that Austin was likely waiting on our uncovered porch and being soaked by the intensifying downpour, I rushed down the stairs two at a time, pulling open the white PVC door.
“Can I come in please?” Austin asked meekly, his arm raised above his head in a poor attempt at a makeshift human umbrella. I stared for a beat too long as the rain molded the white t-shirt he was wearing to his chest and abs in an almost pornographic fashion. His cut muscles bulged obscenely under the now sheer fabric as it clung to every bulge and crevice. My eyes traveled down further to happily note that the same fate had befallen his light stonewash denim jeans, which clung to powerful thighs and cupped his bulge in a way that made my throat clench. “Uh, Dylan?”
My eyes snapped back up to meet his, a mirth behind his gaze telling me that he’d caught my obvious perusal of his sodden form. “Oh my god, yes of course.” I stood to one side, gesturing for him to pass. He gave me a brief nod, slipping past me into the house. My senses were assaulted by the warm spicy scent from his skin, boosted by the warm rain. He stopped, startled, and stared as I realized I’d audibly inhaled sharply through my nose. Rumbled, I coughed violently, my hands coming up to cover my mouth as I shooed him past me.
I gathered my wits about me and plastered a wide smile on my face. “Oh dear you’re all wet, let me get you out of those wet clothes.” Because apparently I am on set of one of those gay porn movies Hailey was talking about . I stammered, “What I mean to say is, I have a T-shirt and shorts you can borrow while I run your wet clothes through the dryer.”
“That would be great, thank you.” He smiled at me warmly, stopping me in my tracks. I waited for some type of movement from him or me, but nothing happened. “Erm Dylan, unless you want me to give a strip show to you… and your father,” he said, gesturing towards my dad who was now kneeling on his armchair and watching me curiously over its back, “can I please maybe get those clothes and change in your room?”
“Oh crap, of course.” I slapped my forehead farcically and turned to troop up the stairs. Thankfully I heard his footsteps behind my own. I walked into my room and pulled open the top drawer of my dresser.
I heard my bedroom door close, and held my breath. I was alone, in my own room, with Austin fricking Ridge. I had had this very dream a number of times, but we’d both been wearing much less clothing and the theme tune to She’s All That had been playing in the background. I pulled out a long baggy pair of black sleep shorts that, while very loose on me, might just about fit Austin’s muscular thighs but narrow waist, along with a T-shirt that I inwardly cringed to loan him. It was my only oversized T-shirt, my others being far too tight to fit his wide shoulders. On the front was Broadway icon Ethel Merman belting out “Rose’s Turn” from her iconic performance in Gypsy .
“I’m sorry for the lameness of these clothes.” I don’t mean this Ethel, I’m so sorry. “But it’s all I have right now, and it should at least help cover your PENIS!” I shouted the last word before throwing both hands over my mouth and eyes. My brain short-circuited, and I was fairly sure that I’d had some kind of mental break and I was currently experiencing hallucinations in which Austin Ridge was just standing in my room, not ten feet from me, holding out sodden clothes in one hand While fully naked.
“Sorry man,” I heard Austin say from beyond the hand pressed across my eyes, “but my underwear is kinda saturated, and its nothing you haven’t seen before.”
“I haven’t seen you naked before,” I wheezed out. “When would I see you naked?”
“Dylan, it’s cool man,” Austin laughed. “We all have them, don’t need to keep your eyes covered so tightly.”
I slowly peeled back my hand from my face, one half of me screaming internally to keep my hand where it was, While the other livelier part of me was screaming to tear my hand away and start throwing dollar bills at him to see what he would do next. I kept my eyes trained in the air as if waiting to see if some type of in-house aerial display was about to happen any minute.
There was an unending silence that he refused to break. I knew he was still there; I could sense him all around me. I slowly lowered my eyes, a giant crazed smile plastered on my face to stop any unwelcome panting that I might otherwise do. My brain struggled to take in the vision before me. His dark hair glistened with beads of precipitation that dripped down his forehead and came to rest on his thick dark eyelashes. There was mirth in his eyes as he regarded me curiously, his tongue coming out to swipe away the water that dripped from his perfect Roman nose. My eyes traveled further south to the sculpted chest and small pink nipples that hid beneath a layer of dark fur. His cut abdominal muscles that taper down into the Adonis plate that so many men strived for but so few accomplished. This very plate pointed downwards like a heavenly arrow that led to the most picture-perfect dick I had ever seen. It hung heavy and long against his thigh, thick and full, resting on a large heavy sac.
My hand came up to wipe away some of the drool that had collected at the corner of my mouth.
“Uh Dylan.” Amusement laced his voice.
“Yep?” I smiled lazily, as if the voice came directly from his cock.
“Can I get those clothes in your hand?” Clothes in my hand? What is he talki …. Holy mother of god! “Of course, I’m so sorry.” I rushed forward and shoved the clothes into his free hand, taking his wet clothes from the other.
“I’ll just go put these in the laundry downstairs.” I snapped my fingers together. “I’ll have them back in a jiffy.”
“No rush.” He winked at me.
“I wasn’t looking at it.” I barked out all of a sudden. What is wrong with you?
“You were,” he laughed lightly, “but that’s okay.”
I closed my hanging jaw, trying not to look too deeply into that last comment. I left the room, closing the door firmly behind me to give him some privacy at last before making the short trek downstairs to run his wet clothes through the dryer.
“Do I need to tell you to leave your bedroom door open?” my dad called from the chair as I prepared to ascend the staircase.
“What do you mean?” I grabbed hold of the wooden acorn that adorned the bottom of the stairs.
“I mean is this guy your boyfriend?”
“Who? Austin? No he is not!” My face flushed crimson.
“No offence intended son.” His voice came from his armchair. “It’s just you get this nervous stutter to your voice when you’re talking to him.”
“So what?” I snapped, before remembering who I was speaking to. “Sorry Dad.”
“I only say that because it’s the same way your mother used to talk to me when we first dated.” My heart began to race. “That’s all.”
Dad turned the TV volume up, which was his signal that this conversation had now concluded. Did I really act that way around Austin? Did Austin think I was fawning all over him? Was that why he wasn’t so quick to cover up just now? Give the homo a little of something that he wanted out of pity? I resolved to keep myself more in check. Austin was here for a purpose, to get better grades. I could help him with that, and part of that help was not to ogle him like some kind of moisture-clad sex god.
I raced upstairs, stopping outside my room to compose myself and to knock. If Austin was still naked for any reason, then it would at least give him the opportunity to not be. “Um… come in?” Austin’s voice was more of a question than anything else.
“Sorry,” I said as I pushed my bedroom door open. “Just wanted to make sure you were decent before I came barging back into the room.”
“It’s cool, man. I told you.” He waved me off, shaking his head. My Ethel Merman T-shirt fit him perfectly, his arm muscles slightly bulging at the seams and my sleep shorts perfectly hugging his bubble butt in a way that made me want to weep.
“No it’s not,” I laughed. “Listen, just because I’m gay it doesn’t mean you have to show me some kind of straight boy charity.”
“I wasn’t, I was…” he stammered.
“No seriously.” I fiddled with imaginary buttons on my T-shirt. “I’m still going to help you with your grades; you don’t have to give me any incentive.”
“Dylan…”
“No, I think we should just get things clear right now that I am in no way expecting you to…” I stopped as strong hands grabbed my arms.
“Dylan, shut up.” I brought my gaze up to meet his. The smile on his face put me at ease. “I don’t think you expect me to get naked every time we have a studying session. I just thought since we are both guys that it wouldn’t be such an issue, me changing in front of you. I see now that it’s upset you so I shall endeavor to be completely dressed at all times.”
Well shit.
“Thanks?” I laughed uncertainly.
“Also, just for the record,” he rubbed his palm across his chest and down his abs, “the clothes aren’t lame.”
“They’re just something I had laying around!”
“While that might be the case…” He sat down on the end of my bed. Austin Ridge was on my bed. “Ethel Merman was the definitive Gypsy Rose Lee. I know people love them some LuPone, but its Merman all the way for me.”
“What!” The word was more of an expression of shock than an actual question. “What are you talking about?”
Austin’s face paled. “Please tell me you actually like musical theatre and I haven’t just outed myself to you as a big theatre geek.”
I bit back a laugh. “Austin, you know I am in drama club in school.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “You remember when Garrett and a bunch of you guys decided it would be funny to tie me to one of the columns on the Pygmalion set and smear Eliza Doolittle’s makeup all over my face.”
Austin winced. “Not that it’s an excuse, but you know I didn’t stick around for all that.” No he hadn’t, but what he had done was maybe worse. I’d watched as Garrett and his goons made their way down the aisle towards the stage. I had seen Austin roll his eyes at Garret, giving him a playful shove before leaving the auditorium. The memory of the guys laughing as they crowded around me, pushing me against a foam white pillar before being secured to it with rope one of them found in the prop corner came unbidden, and acted like a bucket of ice water being thrown over my face.
“Anyway,” I dusted my hands against my thighs, “shall we?” I gestured towards the textbook I had set up on my desk near the edge of the wall under the window.
He reached for my arm, but I moved quickly across the other side of the room. “You know, I have told the guys a lot to leave you alone. You know what those guys are like though.”
“Yeah I do,” I laughed, shaking my head slightly. “I’m not sure you do however.”
“Dylan, I…”
“I was being serious.” I tapped the edge of the book. “We need to get a start on this. We wouldn’t want to waste your time. Just out of interest, what course are you going to be taking in college?”
Austin smiled. Walking across the room towards me, he rested his butt on the edge of my desk and reached into his back pocket. He placed an envelope down on the desk in front of me and gestured for me to open it. I held the envelope between my fingers and pulled out the cream paper within.
“Dear Mr. Ridge, we are pleased to offer you a conditional place here at New York University, New York campus. The course you will be undertaking is Theatre as a Major with a Filmmaking Minor program.” I placed the paper back in the white envelope and passed it back to him. My heart beat wildly in my chest, the thrill of expectation buzzing under my skin.
“So yeah.” He smiled shyly.
I watched as his hand fiddled with the envelope, his fingers skimming the edges of the paper nervously as if he expected me to mock him or something. Not really thinking of the consequences I reached across and placed my hand on top of his, stilling his motions and giving his hand a small squeeze. “Wow Austin, really well done.” I offered him a bright smile, which he returned. “That is really impressive.”
“Well…”
“No I’m serious, it’s a big deal. I mean wow! You really are a theatre nerd.”
“Hey!” he frowned.
“I’m kidding.” I held up my hands. “But I do mean it. Well done.”
“Thank you.” He plucked the paper from my hand and folded it back, placing it carefully back inside the envelope. “How about you?”
“Me?”
“Like, where have you said yes to?”
I reached inside my desk drawer and pulled out the small stack of envelopes tied together by one of my sister’s old hair bands and laid them on the desk in front of him.
“Wow, bragger.”
“Ass.” I win. “But I only said yes to this one.” I pulled out the bottom envelope and handed it over to him. He turned the envelope over and immediately his eyes lit up, a smile that seemed to shine from somewhere inside him.
“You’re going to NYU?” he breathed.
My brain glitched as I watched his face flush and his breath quicken. He bit his bottom lip, and his gaze volleyed quickly between my face and the envelope in his hands. “You really mean it, you’re going to be coming to NYU with me… I mean you’re going to NYU?”
“Yeah.” I shrugged. “I mean, you are going to have to put up with me a little longer as we are majoring in the same thing.”
“No way!” All of a sudden, he launched towards me and threw his arms around my shoulder, his nose pressing into the side of my neck. “This is fucking epic.”
I awkwardly reached up and laid a hand on his back, the muscles rippling under my touch, and I fought the urge to squeeze him to me. “I’m so glad you’re going to be there too.”
He sighed, warm breath skitters down my back.
“Well let’s get to studying to make sure we get you to NYU.”
He pulled away from me a touch, staring directly at me and nodding. “Let’s.”