I Am Not What You Think I Am

I am definitely not the super stud that people think that I am. If I had fucked all of the many girls that claimed to have been my sexual partner, I would have done nothing during my years of college but fuck. Okay that might be an exaggeration, but it is not a small one, I could count the girls that I had actually made love to on the fingers of one hand. So how did my reputation start?

It all began with an innocent response to a question from one of the guys in the freshman football team. We were in the locker room after a game, and yes, we were naked, and yes we were comparing dicks. Mine was not the biggest dick in the team, that honor belonged to Hank Waszcovski, six four and weighing a bit over two hundred fifty pounds. Hank scored often enough, but his size was a problem, he had very few second dates. We were standing there toweling off when Chuck Snowden looked at me. "You must do all right for yourself Kris."

My name is Kris, short for Kris, Pendelbury, and I'm the starting quarterback in the team. This is the glamor position in any team, and I come under a fair bit of scrutiny from the fans, both male and female alike. "I get enough to satisfy me." This was the non-committal answer that defined my reputation. They weren't to know that I was easily satisfied, that I had other priorities that didn't include fucking cheerleaders, or any other girl.

"I bet a few wide-receivers pass through your bed." He laughed at his own pun. He spread the first and second fingers of his right hand and moved his left index finger up and down between them to illustrate his point.

"I don't kiss and tell." The tone of my voice suggested that I might have a lot to tell, when in fact there was nothing to tell, at least nothing that would interest him or anyone else. This was where my nick-name of 'Studdley' began, and where the interest of the cheerleaders was kindled. The fact that I had not dated any of them became irrelevant, my reputation as a super stud grew with each season. I did nothing to stop it.

My entire, well I couldn't call it entire, focus was academic. My GPA was good enough to win a place at State U, but before the scores had even been released, I had been scouted by them and granted a football scholarship. Which was just as well, because there was no way that my family could afford my tuition, and no chance of taking out a loan to cover it. This could be explained by telling you that my father had been a conscientious employee of a company known as the 'crooked E', and lost everything, including the will to live with the shame of it all. He left my mother with three kids, me, my sister Rita, and brother Glen, with no income and no family home. We went from an affluent gated community to a trailer park in a matter of weeks.

I figured that while a football career, even if I made the bigtime, would be short-lived, I needed a career that would last, so football was relegated to hobby status. I trained enough to keep fit and learn the playbook by heart. I played well enough to keep my position in the team, but off the field I studied hard, harder than I played football, and definitely harder than I partied. My grades reflected this. A rumor was started that suggested that I had a ghost writer doing my term papers for me. I chose not to refute this, after all how many jocks consistently achieved straight 'A's?

You can imagine my utter shock when I was handed back my English Lit paper only to find an 'F' in large red ink on it. "Mister Pendelbury, did you actually read 'Tess'?" She, Professor Lawrence, was referring to Thomas Hardy's 'Tess of the D'Urbervilles'.

"Yes I did. I know that you have your opinion on this book, and this is supported by the study notes available in the campus book store, but I detected an undertone to this work that resonated with me. I was expressing my observation. Regardless of that, I answered the question and justified my answer with quotes from the book. Didn't you tell us that as long as we answered the question, structured our paper correctly and justified our reasoning, you would not mark us down. Have you not marked this paper down simply because you did not agree with my hypothesis?"

"You're in the shit now Studdley.' Someone behind me said.

"See me after class, we'll discuss this further."

Professor Lawrence ordered me to a chair in front of her desk. "The reason that I graded your paper an 'F' is because I don't believe that you wrote it."

"What? Are you telling me that I am not capable of writing my own term papers?"

"When I am confronted with two identical papers and one comes from a student who is hard working and conscientious, and one from a student who is in this university on a football scholarship, I would have to assume that you copied the work of the other student."

"This is bullshit! I have never seen the need to copy another student's work. As for my being on a football scholarship, because of circumstances, my father committed suicide, my mother could not afford to pay for my tuition, so this was the only way that I could get here. My grades were more than sufficient to gain a place on my merits. I suggest that, before you accuse me of cheating you should check that out. I am not a dumb jock. You can test my knowledge of Tess by asking me anything that you like about the story. If you knew anything about the life of Hardy you would have to consider my paper on its merits, because I based it, not on the superficial story of Tess, not on its treatment in the study notes, but by a knowledge of Hardy's attitude to the Victorian social and Christian mores, and his opinions of them. The very fact that the heroine of this story was considered, when this was first published, a 'fallen' woman is a case in point. This was unheard of in his time. The fact that, when Tess and Angel were fleeing the police after she had killed Alec, they did not go to his family who were strict Christians, but sought refuge at the most holy place of the old pagan religion, Stonehenge, was a reflection of his attitude to the church of his time."

"Okay then, what was the name of Tess' son?"

"She called him 'Sorrow' and when he died she buried him in un-consecrated ground. The church would not have allowed him to be buried in the church cemetery because she had conceived him out of wedlock. Hardy made it clear that the circumstances of her pregnancy, she had been raped by Alec, was not her sin, but the church saw it otherwise. On the night of her wedding to Angel, he confessed to having had sex with another girl. He expected her to forgive his indiscretion, which she did, but when she explained that she had given birth to a child as a result of her being raped, he shunned her and legged it to Brazil taking with him her friend Izz as his mistress."

"What happened when he returned?"

"He found Tess living with Alec as his mistress. He begs her to forgive him but she tells him that he is too late, so he leaves. She has an argument with Alec, accusing him of lying to her when he told her that Angel would never return. She stabs him to death and sets off after Angel. They share a brief happiness until, in their wanderings, arrive at Stonehenge, believed in Hardy's time to have been a pagan temple. Tess lays down to sleep on a stone, believed to have been a sacrificial altar, to symbolically await her fate."

"You say symbolically, what do you mean by that?"

"There are two recurring themes in Tess, the strength shown by farm workers using the traditional methods as opposed to the hellish descriptions he gives of the new farm machinery. The second is the differing attitudes shown by the country folk following Nature and the seasons, and the Christians with their sense of moral superiority. This is illustrated in the symbolism of the final chapter at Stonehenge."

"You have a different take on this than in the study notes, and, listening to you just now, I have to conclude that you were the author of that paper, and that you have a love for Tess that shines through."

"I know that this is going to sound very much against type, but when I was writing this paper, I inserted myself into the story as Tess' lover. I was with her when Alec raped her, I shared her pain and told her that I would never have done this thing. I was with her on her wedding night, listening to Angel spurning her, instead of forgiving her, telling her that she had done nothing for which she needed my forgiveness. I shared her anguish when Angel found her living with Alec, and her telling him that he was too late, and then her confrontation with Alec in which she killed him. I understood that she felt that he was the cause of all of the trouble that she had been forced to live through. I was with her at Stonehenge when she told Angel that he should marry her young sister Liza-Lu as she prepared herself for her fate. I imagined that Hardy would have had the same feelings for his heroine as he wrote this novel."

"Mister Pendelbury, Kris, you are definitely not what I thought you were. I have underestimated you, and I apologize for that."

"No need to apologize. What you thought I was is the image that I promote, it's easier that way."

"Be that as it may, I will investigate this matter further. In the mean time I have scrubbed the 'F' and given you an 'A+' instead."

"Thank you for that. I think I know who copied my work and why."

"Okay, tell me, who is it and why?"

"I think it was Mandy Saint, and as for the why, my room-mate Todd was trying to get into her pants and she kept telling him that she couldn't because she had a term paper to hand up in two days, and hadn't even started it. He gallantly offered to write it for her if she would let him bang her, his words. I was half asleep at the time and had just finished my paper and had saved it on my computer. He had seen me log on often enough to know my password, so he changed the name on it, ran off a copy and gave it to her. She wasn't to know that he hadn't written it."

"I will still need to have a word with her about submitting other people's work as her own, after all it is plagiarism."

"I know this is going to sound weird, but could you ask her to resubmit her paper using her own words and ideas?"

"Why would you ask that? It was your work that she stole."

"But she didn't know that, she was under the impression that the love of her life was helping her out with an assignment."

"Do you know, the more I talk with you, get to know you, the more that I come to realize that you are less and less like the man I thought you were. Why do you continue to hide behind the jock persona?"

"Because the person that I really am will not be as popular as the one that everyone thinks I am. I don't crave the popularity that my reputation has generated, but it does make life easier for me."

Life as I knew it changed ever so subtly. Professor Lawrence's attitude to me changed, not enough that anyone would notice, but it did. Mandy came to me to apologize for stealing my work. "Kris, I'm sorry that I got you into trouble with old Lawrence, but I really did think that Todd wrote it, he told me that he did.

"I hope it was worth it." I knew as soon as I said it that this was the wrong thing to say.

"No it wasn't. To him I was just another trophy fuck, another scalp on his belt, and he wasn't that good. Not as good as you."

"Who have you been listening to?"

"There are so many girls who you have had, and who all say that you are the best."

"And you want to be just another of my conquests, is that it?"

"No. I want to be THE one, the one that you make love to and realize that you can't live without."

"I won't ask you to hold that thought, because I have other priorities, other agendas, that preclude any sexual involvement right now. Ask me again at the end of the semester."

'I'm disappointed, here I have been led to believe that all a girl has to do is to make it obvious that she is available and you'll make love to her."

"Why would you think that? Where's the thrill of the chase, the taking of the prize? No, life is not like that for me. I have to work hard and get a good job so that I can look after my mother and brother and sister. Mother has sacrificed a lot just to get me an education, I owe her."

"I never thought that I would say this, but you are not who or what I thought you were."

"Promise not to tell anyone, I'd hate to have my reputation tarnished."

"I promise. I promise on the understanding that you and I get together at the end of the semester."

"I'll think about it." I left it at that. I sort of hoped that she would find someone else by then. Don't get me wrong, Mandy's a nice enough girl, I just didn't think that she was my type, not that I knew what my type was, she just wasn't it.

I seemed to spend less and less time in my dorm room. The time spent with football remained the same, the time spent in class remained the same, but my time spent in my room studying decreased for the simple reason that I could not concentrate, what with Todd's extra-curricular activities creating a distraction. Of necessity I spent more and more time in the library working on assignments. I had found a desk close to a convenient power outlet that I could plug my laptop into. It was close to the section of the library where I could find the books that I needed, so it became my part-time home.

I was deep in thought when a laptop appeared on the other side of the desk. "Do you mind?" It was a deep throaty voice, a girl's voice, and I was dragged back into the world outside my self imposed no-go zone.

I looked closely at the source of this voice. She was definitely not a cheerleader, that was a plus in my eyes, she had a certain panache that was rare in this world, I couldn't put my finger on it, it was a style that didn't fit into this world. "It's a free world." I hid behind the non-committal response.

"Good. What have you been studying these past few weeks? I've been watching you."

"Mostly Lit. I have a lot of books to get through as well as the background on the authors that gives me a better take on the actual story. Most famous authors have a reason for what they write." I didn't normally speak about my studies, especially not to someone that I didn't know, at least I didn't think that I knew her, probably because my classmates seldom made an impression on me, I wasn't that interested in them.

"How was it that a paper that Professor Lawrence originally graded an 'F' suddenly became an 'A+'? There were rumors of course."

"It was all a misunderstanding by her, as soon as she realized that she changed the grade."

"That was a first, you do realize that don't you?"

"No I didn't. I simply stood up to my rights, that's all. She wasn't happy about it, but what else could she do? She had made an assumption that turned out to be a wrong one, and she had to acknowledge that."

"You must have been the first student to question her decision like that."

"I wouldn't know about that." It was time to change the subject. "What are you studying?"

"The same as you, I'm in the same class as you, although I don't think that you've paid any attention to me."

"I pay little attention to others in case I lose focus on what I'm doing." Why was it that the topic had turned back to me?

"The one thing that has come out of your rebellion is that Lawrence has softened her attitude to us students, and you in particular. I think she fancies you."

"What! You would have to be nuts to even think that. I certainly haven't encouraged her in any way."

"You don't need to encourage anyone, you have a reputation that ensures success every time, and, from what I have heard, you have done nothing to discourage the rumors. But that's not the real you, is it?"

"I don't have a clue what you're talking about."

"I find that hard to believe. You have spent all the time that you've been here cultivating that superstud image to divert attention from the real you."

"Go on, what image? I am what I am, I can't change that."

"Bullshit!" She hissed at me, after all we were in a library where raised voices were frowned upon. "I know that you have reputedly had every one of the cheerleaders, I hear them talking about it all of the time, but if you listen closely, as I have, you'll come to the conclusion, that they're all talking bullshit, it's just that they're too self absorbed to realize that, or just plain dumb."

"You know so much about me, but what about you? What's your name and what makes you tick?"

"Angelique le Maître, as you can probably gather by the name I have French origins, French Canadian in fact. I'm from Montreal and, like you, I am here on a scholarship. Local businesses in my area get together to offer a student who shows promise, but whose parents can't afford it, the opportunity to study in the US. I was chosen from hundreds of applicants and here I am. As for what makes me tick, I am similar to you, all that I want to do is to get through my course with as little fuss as possible. The difference between us is that, while you hide behind your manufactured image, I hide in the shadows so that no-one notices."

"Then why this meeting?"

"I would like to think that we, having so much in common, can work together and support each other, to let our real images lead us to who knows where."

"From that I take it that you fancy me, and fancy that I could like you."

"Yes, I fancy you, I'm a girl after all, and I would not want to be the only one here that didn't. As for the other, I can dream, and I have dreamed of what could be, and have taken a giant leap of faith to even talk to you. My dreams sometimes end with my being shot down in flames and totally humiliated by your rejection. Today was a walk into the unknown. If you're going to reject me, do it gently, please."

"I'm not going to do that, I could never do that. This is part of my cowardice, this not wanting to face the all too real possibility of having to reject some girl, to tell her that I no longer like her."

"Has this ever happened?"

"Yes, but not often, only once in fact. I had a relationship with a girl in my freshman year, and yes we had sex. I cared for her, but then I found out that she was seeing another boy at the same time. I just had to tell her that I was not able to be with her unless she gave up the other boy. She told me that she felt able to love both of us, but it was me that she preferred. I could not continue with her on that basis, so I told her that unless she was with me only, I could no longer see her. In the end it was her choice, but it still hurt."

"Then I'm in with a chance?"

"Let's not rush these things. I will need to get to know you more before I'm prepared to make any decision on a committed relationship."

"You are not the person that I've been led to believe you are, you've actually used the 'C' word." She smiled at me and I could see at that point that this could have possibilities.

For the next few weeks life got comfortable for me, I had a burgeoning relationship with a fantastic girl that had so far managed to slip under the campus radar. Angelique and I would meet in a place where we could be certain that no-one would see us, or if they did they wouldn't care, the library. We would study together, help each other out with problems in a close, but platonic way. Any touching was kept to a minimum and there was definitely no kissing, in public that was. Walking to and from the library to our respective dorms provided a couple of conveniently hidden places where we could indulge in some discreet kissing. We discussed our relationship, and it was agreed that when the time and opportunity presented itself, it would be consummated. We were in no hurry for this to happen, just certain that it would.

Sometimes life throws you a curve ball. In my case the curve ball was Professor Lawrence. I had developed an uneasy feeling when in her company, and the frequency with which we seemed to find ourselves alone together seemed to be increasing. She would often ask me to see her after class for some reason or other, and when I got to her office she always seemed to have changed her appearance. While taking a class she was almost what could be described as a frump, tweed skirt, knitted cardigan over a blouse, sensible shoes and thick stockings. In her office she had transformed herself, sleek dress, tight over the hips, short skirt and low cut bodice showing a lot of cleavage, which she took pains to show more of by leaning over in front of me.