Nerd and the Jock

I can't believe I'm sitting by myself in a stranger's bathroom and reading Persuasion, not that I would want to invite somebody to discuss the global warming. But the point that I am still here, wasting away my precious Friday evening in someone else's bathroom instead of getting cuddled up in my dorm is beyond me.

Actually, who am I kidding, it's my fault that I'm here. You might have read about the girls or seen them in the movies, a girl who never go to parties but suddenly decides to go to one, just because her roommates/friends begged her to go, and this party would eventually change her life? Yeah, that's not me. Nobody forced me to come to this party, or even asked me to be here. But then, why am I here, you might ask? That's because I'm an idiot, there's no beating around the bush about it. The only culprits in my story are me and my dumb list.

As I turned another page of my book, I heard a loud thud, almost like a bang outside the door. Assuming that someone might need to use the bathroom, I opened the door and immediately realized my mistake when a couple lost in a heavy make-out session awkwardly lose their balance (but not their passion), stumbled into the bathroom and continued with their passionate smooching.

I understood that it's my cue to leave when they start removing their clothes right in front of me. I immediately got out of their way and continued walking in the corridor and reach the kitchen which was filled with all kinds of students. I wanted to leave very badly but forced myself to get over my fears. I'm a tigress, I'm a badass and I'm going to have my first kiss tonight.

I put my book in my sling bag and moved deeper into the kitchen to get myself something to drink. I finally found a water bottle with a tight cap. I unscrewed it and turned around while lifting the bottle to my mouth. I lifted my head from a wet wall or rather a wet human chest. I looked up and stared into the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen, perfect shade of turquoise and started profusely apologizing. He looked at me and suddenly broke into a grin. Lord, if you're hearing me, I do not like you at all, why would you give an already perfect human specimen a dimple? It's like all the material has been used up on whoever this guy is, and now people like me had to end up with average looking faces.

I got myself out of my stupor and looked at the disaster in front of me. I definitely shouldn't have come to this party. I immediately started apologizing him and grab a couple of tissues from the roll beside me, but that wasn't enough at all. He was completely drenched. It's starting to freak me out. I bit my bottom lip while trying to figure out a way to dry his shirt. I thought he said something to me, but I was too busy apologizing and freaking out simultaneously.

I gave up on the tissues and as final solution, lifted the end of my T-shirt and tried to press it to his wet shirt. There was quite a stir around us and didn't exactly understand what was going on. But apparently something registered with the beautiful boy, he groaned and hooked his fingers into the loops of my jeans to drag me closer. However, with the amount of force he put, I ended up colliding to his wet chest.

"Sweetheart, I appreciate the gesture, but showing your red lacy bra is not helping at all. By the way, good choice in underwear, I approve," he commented with a dry chuckle. I squeaked awkwardly and tried to get away from him, but he caught my wrist and started walking me away from the crowd.

We passed my favorite bathroom which I guess is still occupied and reached a room at the end of the corridor. He immediately locked the door and pushed me against it and blocked my exit with his body. He smiled at me and the that holy dimple popped up again, "the real question here is, why are you wearing your grandfather's t-shirt and covering up that amazing body," he asked leaning up close to me.

I tried to wriggle out of his hold and get away from him, but he leaned closer and dipped his head into my neck and chuckled. As he slowly inhaled and exhaled, the air touched my neck, rousing a spark somewhere deep in my belly.

His touch should make me uncomfortable, but oddly, it wasn't. Although it was addicting, I snapped out of it and displeasure quickly replaced the confusion, "What do you mean? Why would I wear my grandfather's clothes?"

"It definitely looks like one, babe, but you still haven't answered my question," he replied.

I gave on trying to get away from but answered him with a stern voice (or so I thought), "these clothes make me happy; they make me feel comfortable. You don't even know me, we in fact literally just met, you have no right to comment on my clothes. How would you feel if I comment on your panties?" As soon as the words came out, I realized how much of an idiot I was.

He guffawed, right in my face, "tell you what, let's make a bet, if I can recall three incidents where we have talked to each other, I get a kiss and you can touch my panties. Do we have a deal, sweetheart?" I tried to cover up my grin.

I need to get serious before I lost grip over reality, "what if you lose," I asked.

"As I recall the incidents, if you think I have made any of them up, you will win and you don't have to kiss me," he replied, but quickly added, "you can still touch my panties," with a sly grin.

I was appalled by his suggestion. A sense of panic hit me hard. Sure, I came to this party to find someone to kiss. But all I needed was an average Joe to boost my confidence. But with this guy (I don't even know his name for God's sake!) I knew where it would end up. Me sitting on my couch holding my broken heart in one hand and Ben & Jerry's in another.

There is no way I am going to kiss this guy. But I knew he was bluffing, there is no way, I have seen a face like that three times and forgot about. I snorted like a little happy water buffalo and agreed to his challenge.

He stepped away from me and stretched his right arm. He raised a single figure, pointing out number one. "Last year in May, you were rushing through the corridor, crashed into someone and dropped all your books, someone came and asked you if you were okay and helped you with your books, who did you think that was?" he revealed the story with a sort of a wicked smile. I remembered that incident, I was very humiliated that I fell along with all my books, I didn't even notice that him who helped me out. This was not supposed to surprise me, but it immensely did.

He continued when I didn't interrupt him, "again a few months later, when you were passing by the baseball court, you got hit buy the ball, and you fell on ground, I'm pretty sure you'd have remembered that I kept trying to wake you up continuously and stayed with you to make sure you didn't end up with a concussion," he ended the second story with a smug smile.

This time I regained quickly, and counter attacked him, "I took to bad hit to my head, and almost had a concussion. How was I supposed to remember you?" I ended my argument weekly.

He smirked, "that's not my problem, sweetheart." In that moment, I knew I was in trouble, but I was hoping that he was about to make up the third one. So, I paid a very close attention to him to bust him out as quickly as I can.

He continued, "this happened in the end of the year, so just a couple of weeks ago," he stated completely surprising me. But before I could react to that, he spoke again, "around the time of Christmas you were carrying a heavy box down the stairs right behind the library, when you slipped, somebody held you and made sure you didn't fall on your pretty little ass, remember?"

I remembered that part, but I couldn't see his face. He put his arms around my waist, his hold strong, confident, tight but at the same time, his touch light as a feather. He came behind me, helped me, whispered into my ear before nibbling on my earlobe, causing me to lose my balance again. I remembered it all very clearly like it happened yesterday, but still there's no proof that it's him.

With the strong point in mind, I marched to him to counterattack him, when he caught up with me and met me in the middle. "I have proof," he announced.

"I said something to you, do you remember that," he asked. I nodded and he moved closer to me. I stepped back but collided with the door.

He leaned into me and I could feel his lips grazing along my neck and eventually my ear. "What did I say to you before I walked away from you sweetheart?" he whispered.

Before I could stop myself, I remembered it all, just as he whispered his reply as some lovers' secret, "I am got you, sweetheart".

"I got you," he said, and he actually did. He saved my ass for 4 times literally and now he wants something in return.