Second Chance Ch. 01

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A young man finds love and loss in college.
11.8k words
4.61
203.2k
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Part 1 of the 4 part series

Updated 11/01/2022
Created 10/19/2012
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S-Des
S-Des
3,003 Followers

Thanks to KevH for all his efforts in helping me with the writing and ideas. You went above and beyond the call my friend. Also thanks to DawnJ and especially Aruban for their encouragement and suggestions. This story took a very long time for me to complete, and I sincerely hope you find it worth the effort. Please be advised that of the four chapters, this is by far the shortest, and there are a limited number of sexual encounters throughout, so it might not be a story for everyone.

~~~~~

October, 1992

Darryl trudged through the run-down section of town on the South side of Chicago, oblivious to the surroundings. As he slowly trudged along, lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice the group of poorly dressed youths standing in the alleyway, eyeing him closely.

"Well, what do you know?" a voice called out, jarring him from his reverie. "It's the punk who thinks he knows everything. Since you're so smart, maybe you should know better than to be showing your face around here without your protection."

Darryl looked around nervously, his pulse racing. Trying to appear calm, he nodded an acknowledgement.

"Hey Ty," he said, hoping the boys couldn't hear the tremor in his voice. "I was just heading home."

"Home," the larger boy scoffed, "that's exactly where you belong...home with your Momma!" The others laughed loudly, heightening Darryl's distress.

"Look, man, I don't want any trouble," he pleaded, trying to sound confident, despite the knot he felt in his gut.

"Of course not," came the mocking reply. "Since the sell-out isn't here anymore to watch your back." He glanced at the others with a menacing grin. "The geek here likes to pussy out when no one takes care of his business for him." He turned back to the cringing youth. "Just like school. I got suspended for a week because of you, you fucking kiss-ass."

Darryl put up his hands in supplication. "I didn't do anything, Ty. She saw you cheating. Why are you blaming me?"

"She would have never seen me if it hadn't been for you," Ty spat. "I wouldn't have to cheat if you didn't fuck everything up for the rest of us. This shit is all your fault and you need to learn your place. You think all this science and shit means anything? You think you're better than us?"

"No!" the smaller boy said, fear threatening to overwhelm him. He knew Ty was very dangerous and that he had to quickly find a way out of the situation. The boy had been increasingly aggressive toward him since they reached high school the previous year.

"I'm sorry you got in trouble, but it wasn't my fault."

Ty was no longer listening, his jealousy of the smarter boy adding to his frustration at his own failures. One of the other boys made a feint, drawing Darryl's attention, and Ty stepped forward and sucker punched the defenseless youth in the side of the head.

Darryl stumbled back, holding his face in pain. "It isn't fair!" he thought angrily. "It was never like this before." The bitterness at constantly being picked on for almost a year built inside him, and before he could consider his actions, he swung wildly, catching the Ty flush on the jaw.

A hush fell over the group as he fell backward, landing with a loud thud. He hurriedly looked from face to face, seeing disbelief in their stares, mixed with scorn. Looking away in embarrassment, he seethed at being caught by surprise by someone he loathed. Darryl looked down at his hand, seemingly amazed that it could do so much damage. By the time he glanced back at his opponent, the light was reflecting off something in Ty's hand. Before he had time to register the sight, a loud pop echoed in the still night.

Time seemed to stand still as he looked around, confused at why the boys were now backing away. "They can't be scared of me," he thought erratically. He was searching for something to say to diffuse the situation when his hand scraped across his chest, only to find it wet. Looking down, he was dismayed to see a stain on his good shirt.

"What's Mom gonna say?" he thought, hysterically. He covered the stain with his hand, only to see it spread. It was warm, but strangely he was feeling increasingly cold. The sound of footsteps running away barely registered as he fell to his knees, now clutching both hands against his chest, trying in vain to stop the bleeding.

"Why aren't you here?" he gasped. "I need you." His last thought before slumping forward was how worried his Mom would be when he didn't come home on time. The pain faded as everything went dark and the sound of the approaching sirens faded from his hearing.

At that exact moment a mere thirty miles away, a thirteen year-old boy named Tim Sullivan, sat alone in his room in an upper-middle class suburb on the NorthWest side.

He couldn't have imagined how that random act of violence committed against a boy he had almost nothing in common with would come to change his life...

~~~~~

October, 1999

Tim was a typical, unassuming sophomore in college. He was working on his Engineering degree, planning to make his living in the tech sector designing and troubleshooting electronic equipment. His friend Pete was an Engineer at a very successful telecommunications company and had guaranteed Tim a job when he graduated.

They first met during Tim's junior year of high school at a job fair, and Pete immediately took the young man under his wing. At least part of the reason had to be pity. Tim was the textbook definition of a geek; skinny, average-looking, socially uncomfortable and wearing clothes that were the antithesis of cool.

Pete took one look at him and decided it was his mission in life to be Tim's mentor. They talked all afternoon about grades, interests, and what Tim would have to do to land a serious job like his. For the next year and a half, Pete called every month. He also gave Tim his email address, in case he needed to talk.

He was a cool, successful man and helped his protégé find a way to turn himself around. By the time Tim graduated high school, he was moderately popular and actually had dated a couple of girls he wouldn't have believed could be interested in him just a couple of years earlier. He was still a virgin, but figured college was just the place to take care of that.

Tim was lucky enough to be accepted by his first choice, the state school that had a reputation for having one of the finest engineering programs in the nation. Pete continued to be a role model for him, which Tim found incredibly helpful when he realized that college was actually going to be harder than high school instead of the non-stop party that he had so often envisioned.

The girls were beautiful, but mostly interested in the good-looking guys or the jocks. The school had a large number of wealthy students as well, which made guys like Tim feel out of place. In many ways, he felt like he was back in high school, before his transformation. Instead of dating, which seemed unlikely under the circumstances, he followed Pete's advice about concentrating on studies. It paid off, as he maintained a 4.0 for his first year, despite a brutal course load.

During summer break, Pete was able to land him a temporary job. It was exactly what Tim needed, allowing him to put enough money in the bank to get ready for his sophomore year, which he vowed would be the one that would change everything in his personal life.

When Tim got back to school, he found that dealing with professionals at his work had changed him. There was a new confidence in him that friends and acquaintances immediately noticed, even if he hadn't. He had his first date of the new semester within a week of classes resuming.

Tim began to enjoy the social aspects of college as well as his studies. He attended parties and dated fairly often, although none of them became serious. During midterms, there were several big parties thrown to wind down from the stress. Tim was invited to one by a guy he was tutoring in algebra. He said there would be a ton of great-looking women there and guaranteed he would make sure his friend was taken care of.

Tim agreed to attend, but assured him that he'd be fine with his love life. The truth was, he never admitted he was still a virgin, and the last thing he wanted was to be set up with an experienced girl, only to be embarrassed. Despite his desire to finally become a man, something told him to be patient until the time was right. Whether it was out of a romantic notion or abject fear was a subject he often pondered.

The party was insane. Walking through the door, he was immediately assaulted by mind-numbingly loud music and the din of people trying to yell over the top of it to be heard. The crowd was diverse; evenly divided between a number of different cliques he knew from around campus. Tim made his way through the house looking for his friend, which wasn't easy considering the sheer number of people crammed inside.

He turned the corner toward the kitchen, scanning it for anyone he might know, hoping to not be stuck in that atmosphere alone. Just as he was about to move on, he saw her. Long straight brown hair, brown eyes, flawless skin, legs that seemed to go up forever and the cutest dimples he had ever seen on a woman. On top of it, she had a figure any model would kill for. Tim was lost before he took another step.

Normally he would have been so shy that he would likely have walked right past her, too intimidated to have any chance of making an impression. This time he definitely made an impression. He was staring so intently at her that the last thing he saw was her eyes as he walked directly into a wall, knocking himself unconscious.

The darkness gave way to a blurry light as Tim fought through the haze. He realized he was in a bathroom, lying in the tub with a towel against his face. He pulled it away and was alarmed to see it covered in blood.

"Don't even think about touching that," a soft voice told him firmly. "You're going to get blood all over your clothes. I was worried you might have to go to the hospital. I've never seen anyone bleed that much before. You're lucky I'm studying to be a nurse."

His eyes finally began to focus and he shook his head, attempting to clear the fog. Unfortunately, the movement aggravated the pounding headache, he discovered. Unsteadily, he tried to stand, but soon found the room spinning.

"Whoa, there buddy," came the same voice. "You better stay down until you're feeling better." He felt a hand softly but firmly urge him back to a prone position.

He finally looked up and realized to his utter humiliation that it was the woman he had been staring at. "Oh shit!" he muttered.

"What?" came the concerned reply.

"I...uh...nothing," he stammered, suddenly wishing he could fit into the cracks in the wall.

He peeked over the blood soaked towel only to see that she was displaying a broad smile that felt like the warmest sunshine he'd ever experienced. "Did you just realize it was me you were looking at when you did your Wile E. Coyote impression?"

Tim briefly considered running from the room in shame, but figured he'd never make it to the door. At that precise moment, Pete's voice rang in his head, telling him to stop being afraid. After all, considering what she'd seen, what was the worst thing that could happen?

"Well, I have to admit it wasn't exactly my finest hour," he said, trying to sound nonchalant. "But in my defense, I was distracted. I never saw an angel before, and assumed the laws of physics no longer applied."

That brought a hearty laugh from the young woman. "Well, I've got to give you points for guts. Most guys wouldn't have the nerve to try a line like that after what happened. My name's Donna," she said, extending her hand.

"Donna, my name's Tim. Please forgive me if I don't get up. If I try to stand, I'll probably fall and you'll have to call that ambulance after all."

She laughed again and he took the opportunity to study her more closely. His first appraisal was entirely accurate. She was stunning. Her brown eyes were large and welcoming. Her lips were full, with just a hint of an upturn at the corners that gave her the appearance of a constant impish grin. Her hair flowed casually past her shoulders, framing her face in a easy, relaxed manner that bespoke of someone who didn't spend hours primping to be beautiful. Together it was an image of someone friendly, kind and at ease with the effect they had on the opposite sex; someone who didn't feel the need to pursue compliments, and didn't choose to use their looks as a way to isolate themselves from others.

His moment of bravado immediately faded as it occurred to him that there was nothing he could offer her that a hundred guys at the party couldn't top. He briefly wondered what it must be like for her to have every guy vying for her attention. The thought was utterly intimidating.

Tim's retreated into the safety of his protective shell. How could anything I do possibly impress her...especially after what happened? he thought hopelessly.

Suddenly a thought occurred to him that was almost as painful as knowing she was the one who wound up taking care of him.

"So how many people know what I did downstairs?" he asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

Donna's expression was far too amused for his comfort level. "Well, let me see. There is me, the two guys who carried you upstairs, the forty people in the room at the time, the rest of the house who came running to see, and by tomorrow, the rest of the campus who'll see the pictures they took."

Tim groaned at the thought. "Thanks, now I feel so much better. Did they teach you those bedside manners in class, or did you just come by them naturally?"

"Relax," she assured him, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "If you have a sense of humor about it, it'll blow over in a week or two. Otherwise I'm guessing you'll be seeing the pictures on the bulletin board through Christmas at least."

Deciding to play the only card he had available, Tim shrugged pathetically. "I don't suppose you'd consider hanging out with me for a while? Strictly for moral support, of course," he quickly added, trying not to sound too eager.

She smiled graciously. "I guess it's the least I can do since it's my fault you damaged yourself and your reputation."

"Your fault?"

"Well," she said with a sly grin, "if I didn't look so good tonight, you'd be fine right now."

He chuckled, but immediately regretted it due to the throbbing pain it caused. "Please don't make me laugh."

They spent the rest of the evening together, Donna dutifully staying by his side to deflect criticism. Tim took her advice and laughed at himself, immediately finding that most people warmed to him right away, even the jocks. When he explained why he walked into the wall, he even had a few girls tell him it was romantic.

The party finally wound down, and Donna told him she had to get back to her room to study. She gave him a quick hug. "This was really fun. Would you like to do it again some time?"

Tim answered immediately. "Are you free in an hour?"

They began spending a significant amount of time together after that, although it was strictly as friends. They did little things like eat lunch or study at the library. Occasionally she'd ask him to be her cover when she didn't have a date for a party. Tim was surprised to find that her life wasn't as perfect as he had assumed it was.

When she didn't have someone with her there was a constant stream of guys trying to find the right combination of lines to separate her from her panties. It wasn't what he assumed it would be like for her. In fact, he found it to be a little depressing. Rarely did anyone care about Donna or what she might want. It was just an endless series of sales pitches from guys looking to score, or have something to brag about to their buddies. Even having Tim standing next to her didn't dampen the enthusiasm of many of the would-be suitors.

More than once a guy literally stepped between them to engage her in conversation, obviously believing his magnetic personality would make her forget about the dork she was with. She always reacted the same way to these types of slights toward Tim. She would graciously indicate that she was not interested, step around the man, then continue talking to Tim as if nothing had happened. He found it hysterical to watch the looks of disbelief as these men who considered themselves superior realized she was more interested in his company.

It was just after Christmas break when noticed the change in her behavior. Donna started asking him to go out with her more often and stopped making excuses about why. It was subtle and took over a month for him to be sure, but he eventually was positive the change was there.

On Valentine's Day there was a party sponsored by her sorority that was ladies' choice. Tim had heard about it and wondered what Donna's choice would be, not to mention how he would feel about it. He had fallen hard for her, and despite her recent interest in him, she'd shown nothing that convinced him she felt as strongly. He tried not to get his hopes up, but couldn't stop wishing she'd choose him.

The rules were a bit unusual. The girls weren't allowed to ask out their dates until two weeks before the dance. Evidently it was to create a kind of competition for the most desirable guys. The day the girls were allowed to ask, Tim tried to stay confident, but deep down prepared himself to be sitting home that night.

About ten o'clock in the morning there was a soft knock at his door. Tim opened it to find Donna on the other side, fidgeting with her hands and looking uncharacteristically nervous. It surprised him because Donna always seemed to be confident and collected. He believed it came from having to deal with so much male attention. She was forced to be in control most of the time. It added to the perception that she was unattainable because most men rarely got to see her just being herself.

Those thoughts and about a hundred more flashed through his head as he watched her standing there uncomfortably. Tim knew before she said a word why she was there and had to hide his own hands, which were trembling in anticipation.

"Hi Tim." She glanced at the floor, then took a deep breath. "Look, I wanted to ask if you'd like to go to the Valentine's dance."

He didn't hesitate. "Of course I want to be your date, Donna," he answered, unable to wipe the grin from his face. He glanced at his watch. "I'm just wondering what took you so long."

With the tension of the moment relieved, she stuck her tongue out and they shared a laugh. Tim felt so at ease that without thinking, he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, then hugged her tightly. He felt her stiffen, so he pulled back to see if he'd done something wrong.

She was looking at him differently than he ever remembered, almost expectantly. The intensity of her stare was mesmerizing. Tim felt fuzzy and realized that he was leaning in again, this time more slowly. It was like being caught in her gravity; he was unable to resist, or even consider what was happening.

A shudder ran through her body as their lips met. Her lips were soft and wet with a faint fruit taste from her lipstick. The scent of her perfume caused a surge through his body, almost causing his knees to buckle. Her lips parted and her tongue touched his lips, trying to part them. Tim tilted his head and let her tongue slip between, softly dancing against his own. The months of anticipation heightened the moment to an impossible level.

Her head tilted back and forth as she seemed intent on devouring his lips with her own, sending a second, more powerful surge through his body. This time his knees did buckle and he fell back against the doorframe. It broke the hold that the moment had on both of them and she pulled back, a little self-consciously.

S-Des
S-Des
3,003 Followers