Speech and Debate Pt. 06

Through the Looking Glass: A Nerd in the Weight Room

On a normal day, I would wake up by 7:00 AM to be out the door by 7:30 for first period bell at 8:05. I had my routine down to a strict science. 7 minute shower, 3 minutes dressing, 1 minute on hair, 4 to pack my bags and the rest at the kitchen table inhaling whatever was available before jumping in my Camry and speeding to the highway.

So when I woke at 5:47 AM that first Monday back at school after winter break in Boston, completely energized as if I'd slept for a year, no one was more surprised to see me nearly skip down the hall to the bathroom than my early-rising mother.

"David? Are you okay? Are you sick? What are you doing up so early?"

She seemed concerned, already put together and dressed for her day teaching 5th Grade Computer Science at the public elementary school.

"I'm fine, Mamma. Just couldn't sleep," I said.

She raised her eyebrows in the way mother's do when they can sense something is different but don't want to wade into the treacherous teenage rapids too deeply without sussing out more information. I closed the bathroom door on her bewildered expression and started the shower.

I still don't know what I found to occupy the time. My shower was luxuriously long, until it was ended by the vigorous knocking of my little sister. I spent more time picking out my outfit for the day than I had if you'd combined the entire amount for the academic year thus far. I even snuck into Mamma's bathroom and "borrowed" a little hair product, something that purported to tame fly aways, whatever those were, and ran it through my blonde hair.

I obsessed over my visage in the mirror for longer than I'd like to admit, completely engrossed in making myself look my absolute best. I was decently satisfied with my results by 7:15, though still a mix of insecurity and anxiety not uncommon before one jumps from an airplane. Or so I've been told.

My sister made some snarky comment from her permanent residence slouched into the couch. Something about street walkers and the futility of human connection. I was actually looking forward to the day she would begin to transform into something resembling normal.

"Eat a dick, Virginia Woolfe," I said with as much love as I could muster for my closest genetic counterpart, and ran to my car.

"That's more your department, isn't it?" she quipped.

As an academic scholarship student, I was in every possible Advanced Placement course. And there were a lot of them. In my entire High School career, I had only ever taken 5 non AP courses. My entire senior year was APs.

Daniel, as a full-tuition-paying athlete, only had two AP classes, both of which he had with me: AP Chemistry and AP English Literature. Chemistry was not my strong suit, but English Lit I could pass in my sleep. Having a teacher for a mother meant that reading the classics had been compulsory. I was buried in Jane Eyre when my contemporaries were just discovering the Babysitter's Club and The Hardy Boys.

I was distracted through my first and second period classes, only raising my hand occasionally. I took the assigned homework and left without my usual after-class chat with the teachers. Ms. Diggs, AP Anatomy and Physiology, actually seemed hurt that I didn't stay behind after the bell released us to head to our third period, the last before Senior Lunch.

To get to my third period, I had to walk from the main Upper School building across the vast expanse of lawn to the smaller Annex, a collection of classrooms laid out in a double-cross formation with a central seating area and a small fountain. As usual, the benches were occupied by various affluent caucasian kids of various ages, their eyes darting around them, their heads bowed in semi-private conversations as they gossiped about their best friends and worst enemies with equal relish. I paid them no mind and propped myself against one of the bare trees in the corner of small courtyard to wait for the third period bell. I pulled my "pleasure read" from my backpack and began to scan the lines without really taking them in.

A disturbance at the very edge of my vision pulled my gaze up. The crowds of kids seemed to be parting to either side of the sidewalk, making a small central aisle down which walked the school royalty. If there had been wind machines and slow motion cameras, they wouldn't have seemed out of place.

At the center of the pack was Amy. Arrayed behind her in order of apparent importance were the remainder of the "party of five," as they so wittily dubbed themselves: Ashley, Ally, Amanda, and Katie. I always felt a little sorry for Katie, what with the "K" name ruining the complete alliteration possibility. We had an Adrienne in our grade, but I never quite figured out why she didn't make the team. Poor Katie was also the only Junior, having been held back after a disastrous case of mono which never seemed to heal the year before, most likely due to her inability to keep her mouth to herself and well documented penchant for football players. She'd never been able to catch up. At least there was a small hope that she could become queen next year and align the K names behind her throne from the crop of junior girls dying to move up the social ladder.

Daniel walked a few paces behind Amy, a deep green winter jacket doing little to cover his shoulders and chest, his blue jeans clinging to his thighs. Knowing what lay under those jeans now made me thankful that us Seniors were allowed to wear casual clothes and didn't have to stick to the loose Khakis and white button downs the rest of the students were forced into. Several of his jock teammates followed behind the main triangle. I wasn't sure who was attached to which girl, if at all, but they made a veritable wall of testosterone behind the Queen Bee and her court that few would have been able to cross. Certainly not me.

Daniel's eyes met mine for a second and his mouth curved up in a slight smile. I tried not to, but I returned the gesture.

Amy had stopped the group to remove an underclassman from his seat on one of the nearby benches. He'd scampered away without comment and she plopped herself down as if by divine right, and motioned for Daniel to sit beside her.

"Just a sec," I heard him say as he placed his book bag in the place she'd indicated.

He walked towards me, pushing his hands in his jacket pockets. My eyes must have gone wide with terror because he seemed concerned as he approached me, still leaning on my tree.

"Jeeze, Nerd. You look like you're going to have a heart attack. Breathe, dude!"

I released a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding since he began walking towards me. I silently thanked him for the reminder to remain alive.

"Sorry," I mumbled and looked at my feet as they shifted nervously in the dirt beneath me.

"Don't apologize," he said. His hands were still in his pockets but my skin began to tingle with the hope that he would reach out and touch me. I knew he never would, never could, but I wanted him to nonetheless. "I just wanted to make sure you got home okay last night? You never responded to my last text."

He winked at me.

I looked around to see if anyone had noticed my jaw fall to my chest. Daniel was actually hinting at...whatever it was we had done. I moved my mouth but no sound came out.

"I take it you liked it, then?"

I nodded too quickly.

"Mmhmm."

"Good. My older brother nearly caught me with it all the way in. It was crazy!"

No sound. No words. Hard to breathe. Was that the sound of harps strumming gently in the distance?

"Anyway, glad you liked it. See you in fourth period?" He raised his eyebrows at me in question, as if he was unsure if I would be there, like I would try to escape campus between now and then in order to avoid him entirely.

"See you then," I said quietly.

Daniel leaned in a little, a nearly imperceptible change in our closeness that made me thankful for the tree behind me.

"See," he whispered, "I told you I would find a way. This isn't so bad, right?"

I shook my head.

"Nope."

"Fourth period," he called over his shoulder as he walked back towards Amy and her waiting companions.

I watched his perfect ass move beneath the denim of his jeans and wondered what he was wearing, if anything, beneath them today. My cock began to stir and I busied myself with repacking my book in my backpack to cover the rising flush in my face.

Christ, but it was hot all of a sudden.

Amy rose to her feet as he headed back towards her. I had been able to keep mostly out of the way of her reign of social terror the past 3 and a half years, but the look she wore plastered on her face was unmistakable. Her perfectly arched eyebrows drew in over her mascara-lined green eyes. Her manicured and be-ringed fingers gripped her forearms and she tapped one foot in a high-heel that probably cost more than my house, or at the very least my car. I caught her gaze shifting from Daniel to me as I watched him leave.

I'm not proud of the fact, but I would be lying if I said she didn't terrify me a bit. Her long brown hair was perfectly curled and shifted gently in the February breeze and everything about her seemed to scream wealth, privilege, beauty, and power.

She could have been very attractive if the entire package hadn't been marred by the very obvious fact that she KNEW just exactly how beautiful she was. The combination of genetic lottery and rumored visits to a Beverly Hills "family friend," had not only given her perfectly full lips and breasts you'd find on the cover of theVictoria Secret catalogue, displayed even in the chill in a low cut satin blouse, but someone had also injected about 6000 CC's of pure, uncut ego into her brain.

"What was that about?" She asked as Daniel came to stand before her. In her heels, she was almost an inch taller than him, though Daniel outweighed her by a good 50 lbs.

I wasn't sure if "that," had been meant to refer to me, or just the fact that Daniel had spoken to me.

"What?" I heard Daniel reply.

"THAT!" Amy pointed at me.

I swung my backpack up onto my shoulders and raised my eyes. It's one thing to THINK people are talking about you. It's quite another to have nine pairs of eyes locked on you, judging you in detail until you thought they could identify the last time you'd brushed your teeth and changed your underwear. I felt like an animal in a zoo, but I found myself unable to move from their collective stare.

"He's a cool dude, Amy," Daniel said. Every eye suddenly moved from their inspection of my body and turned to Daniel, disbelief evident in their faces. I sighed a bit in relief.

"Ummm, no, he's not babe, do you even..." She began.

I felt myself tighten a bit, drawing in on myself as I readied for the assault of juvenile and hurtful remarks she could and would no doubt lob at me without thought of the human consequences. But they never came.

"Shut up," Daniel said loudly. "David's cool. Leave him alone, Amy."

"But...," she tried again.

"I said, leave him alone. We're friends. Understand?" His voice was dark and serious.

For the first time since I'd known her, Amy seemed shocked. Her eyes widened and she looked a little as if she was going to cry. She didn't, but the effect was mollifying none the less.

Amy nodded and gathered her belongings. Daniel didn't stay behind to wait for her. He began to walk to his next class, seeming uncaring if his girlfriend followed or not.

The bell rang and the entire group began to disperse.

I walked towards my classroom, running the entire exchange through my mind. I may have been more conscious of my surroundings than I had been before the weekend in Boston, but I could swear that I felt eyes on me as I walked, heard the twitters and whispers as I passed.

I sat in my next class and steadied my nerves as best I could. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out in the few seconds before Mr. Blaski began the AP World History lesson.

1 unread text message:

DANIEL: I'm sorry. Amy is such a bitch sometimes. You okay?

I quickly replied

DAVID: I'm fine.

His reply was almost instant, as if he'd been typing it before I responded.

DANIEL: All I wanted to do was kiss you.

"All right guys, we were just getting to the fall of the Byzantine Empire. Page 734 please. Settle down!" Mr. Blaski said from the front of the class.

I closed my phone and did my best to focus.

To this day, I still have no clue how the Byzantine Empire fell. For all I know, it's still going strong.

Dr. Plarston's AP English Lit class was arranged so that two banks of desks faced each other across a wide center aisle that she would pace up and down as she encouraged us to analyze our assigned readings. As usual, I sat in the front row of one of the two groups and pulled out my notebooks and the assigned novel for this week: Catcher in the Rye.

Before Boston, Daniel would usually sit in the back of the opposite bank, two other literarily gifted athletes flanking him. Today, when he arrived a few moments after me, he sat in the front row directly opposite my desk. He sank down low in his chair and spread his legs wide beneath the desk, giving me a perfect view of his very obvious bulge. Knowing that it hid his beautiful uncut cock and massive balls dried my tongue and somehow made me sweat at the same time. I wanted to sink between them and suck him dry right there in front of everyone.

I found myself staring at his legs as we began the lesson. Dr. Plarston paced back and forth between us, but I heard little of her analysis. Luckily, I had read the book several times before so I could reasonably answer any general questions if they came my way. That is until Daniel shifted in his seat, causing me to look up and meet his brown eyes.

As I watched, the tip of his tongue ran over his bottom lip and then moved to trace the upper and his black eyebrows arched high. His right hand traveled to his crotch and squeezed on his package while his gaze shifted to my own cock, growing rapidly under my desk. He winked at me and Holden Caulfield vanished to so much angst ridden dust in the wind.

"David, what do you think was meant by the use of that image? Do you think it was intentional on our author's part or simply our modern interpretation?"

Dr. Plarston stood at the front of the room, leaning back leisurely on her tall teacher's stool and staring pointedly in my direction. I was still locked on Daniel's cock and his now-wetted lips.

"Hmm?" I asked, shaking myself from the stupor a bit.

Shit! What had she asked? Something about an image?

"Oh, well...umm," I began. "I think that is open to interpretation and highly subjective on the part of the reader."

Dr. Plarston nodded and resumed pacing.

Thank you God, or your chosen deity, that I possessed the gift of literary bullshitting!

Daniel caught my gaze and smirked at me.

"Asshole," I mouthed across the divide.

He laughed quietly and returned to examining his copy of the novel.

Luckily, the remainder of class passed without incident and the bell sounded as usual. We gathered our books and I headed to Dr. Plarston's desk to ask about the next week's novels. I liked to read ahead just in case any of my other course load got unexpectedly heavy.

I leaned lazily on her heavy wooden desk and was just about to open my mouth when I felt a book bag push into mine from behind, someone bumping into me as they made their way to leave. Normally, I would have taken little notice. Most people didn't see me or pay me much attention so I was used to be bumped and jostled a bit. But then I felt fingers grab at my ass. It was quick, there one instant and gone so quickly, I thought I must have imagined it. But the effect on me was apparent and drastic.

I jumped and my voice squeaked high in my throat. My flailing knocked a pile of papers from Dr. Plarston's desk and sent her name plate crashing to the floor with a metallic thud. For the second time today, every eye turned towards me. The entire room seemed to go silent, waiting for me to do something else stupid.

"Sorry," I said clearing my throat and bending down to collect the papers I'd scattered. "I got a chill all of a sudden."

From my crouch, I could see that Daniel had been the one standing behind me, his hand on my ass the only culprit. His brown eyes stared down at me again and they twinkled brightly. I'd been on my knees in front of him so many times that my body responded by instinct. My mouth opened a bit and my cock bounced in my jeans. Daniel wet his lips again.

"See you later, nerd." He said in a not unfriendly fashion, readjusted his backpack and walked from the room with his two friends.

"Why do you let him call you that?" Dr. Plarston asked, concern touching her voice, when Daniel had left.

Being academically gifted and somewhat of a loner and social outcast, the teachers had taken a special interest in me, often times going out of their way to check on my well being, or make sure my relative quiet wasn't an indicator of some deeper disturbance. This had manifested in a reputation as a teacher's pet, of sorts. But that was one title I was proud to shoulder.

"I don't mind. Really," I said. How could I tell her that Daniel had screamed for me to fuck him with my huge nerd cock as I made him cum buckets all weekend long?

"Well, you should stick up for yourself more. You're a very special young man and you shouldn't let people treat you otherwise." Her smile was warm and thoughtful and I loved her for it. I tried to return it as best I could.

"Don't you worry. It's almost a term of endearment for me."

"As long as you're sure..." she said, giving me another opportunity to tell her if something was truly amiss.

"It's my badge of honor. Nerd Power!" I joked and raised my fist to my chest in a mock salute. That got me a gentle laugh.

"Get going, you," she chided. "And don't get too far ahead. I'm running out of extra novels to assign you. Seriously, I don't know where you find the energy!"

"Just lucky, I guess." I smiled at her and headed to my last class.

At the final bell, I packed my bags and headed slowly to the Senior Parking lot. As was my custom, I walked at a near glacial pace, holding my novel before me and walking as I read, a skill I had learned early on in my academic career. This little trick would give the majority of my classmates time to socialize and leave before I got there. I could avoid most of the awkwardness of my rumbling old jalopy and only subject myself to the stares of maybe a third of the class instead of all of them.

I was paying little attention to my surroundings by the time I got to my car, fished out my keys and blindly searched for the lock. Then I noticed something sitting on the hood of my beat up vehicle.

It was a large black gym bag. It looked new and shiny. And expensive. Zippers lined it at nearly every seam and angle. A plastic water bottle was tucked into one of the mesh pockets, a digital watch just visible in another, and I could tell just by looking that the inside was filled as well. With what, I couldn't imagine.

Pinned under my windshield wiper was a folded piece of white notebook paper. I removed it and unfolded it.

"Varsity weight room. 5:30. Get ready to sweat, nerd. -D"

"Varsity," "weight room," and "sweat" were three words that I never used in every day conversation, so I was a little confused at first, but the signature at the end of the short missive made it all clear.

I had two hours an fifteen minutes. Two hours and fifteen minutes in which to do...what?

I looked around to see if anyone had noticed the bag and note or my discovery of them, but everyone was engrossed in their own little groups and I was ignored. For once, that was a blessing.