by Kira Blakely
I didn’t feel embarrassed. I didn’t feel shy.
I only felt my own drunkenness and, after that last drink, the room was getting awfully shaky. Not that I gave a damn. In that next single second, I summoned every bit of cocky, self-made courage that I’d ever had and managed to accomplish a small, jesting, hip roll and twist – just a little something to make my pecker do a dance and give the show of a lifetime before dashing for the door, followed by everyone else.
“Streaker!!” I heard someone wail in the open air, as I cut through the night and toward campus. All I could think about was how good it felt to be running, to feel the warm, night air cradle my balls as I pounded toward the dorms.
In reality, I only encountered a few people. It was late, after all – well, early to most – and there weren’t many people moseying around campus at this hour. But for the ones that were, I wanted to give them a show.
I cheered and made gestures where I could, eliciting whistles and encouragement from the partiers following behind me.
I grinned when I saw my dorm room off in the distance.
The home stretch.
Chapter Three – Callie
The thought of moving back home only intensified when the sound of a wooden door slamming against the cement block wall of our dorm room blasted out in the middle of the night, causing my entire body to jump stiffly in the air from my resting spot in bed.
“Wooo!” I heard Lindsey cheer after I sat up abruptly; my eyes wide, my heart beating fast. “Wake up, Bitch!” She came over to my bed and started drunkenly bouncing up and down on her knees, shaking me until I shot my head toward my alarm clock. Squinting, I had to do a double-take. I looked from her and back to the clock. “You just missed the best party ever!” she shrieked again.
“Are you shitting me?!” I screamed, pushing her off of my bed with more force than I’d intended.
She only giggled in response, but I wasn’t amused.
“Are you just now getting in?!” It was 4:30 in the morning!
“Rush is next week! I had to make a good impression at the Frat party tonight!” She sounded like a dumb ass to me.
I rolled my eyes. “Well, I guess I may as well get up,” I mumbled, annoyed, my eyes still squinting as I tried my best to keep them open. It was almost 5 A.M. There was no reason for me to go back to sleep when I had to be up relatively soon anyway. Besides, if I hurried, I guess some good could have come out of it – the chance to get a shower before anyone else.
I rubbed my eyes as a lion-esque yawn escaped me, and I sauntered over to my desk to grab my shower caddy. My steps were slow and weak, and my head was slumped down. I almost started to wonder if I should have gone back to sleep for another hour. Being the first person in the shower sounded great, but I was also too tired to fathom much. All I knew was that if I didn’t somehow get some energy, I’d be a wreck in class.
I sighed and gripped the handle softly before finally jiggling it open and creaking the door open quietly. Lindsey was already snoring on the floor between our beds. How the hell she did that was beyond me.
But I didn’t want to risk waking her up. She needed to sleep all that stupidity off – well, at least the amount of stupidity that the alcohol brought on.
Besides, I didn’t want to deal with her bitchy wrath, either.
Groaning, I took a deep breath and stepped out into the hall, my eyes still half-closed.
Thud!
I felt something solid ram into me, but not altogether hard. Whatever it was felt moist and soft like skin – like a person.
My eyes jolted open, and I immediately felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment.
“Holy shit!” I screamed, my eyes wide open, staring at a naked man in the hallway.
He smirked and leaned against the wall. “Hey,” he whispered. “It’s really early in the morning, so you might want to keep your voice down. I know it’s hard because I mean, look at me. How could you not be screaming like a fan-girl?” He winked at me, his lip still curled in an obnoxiously cocky smirk.
My mouth dropped open as I continued to gape at him.
He was tall, dark, and fucking handsome as hell. His slightly tanned body was ripped with muscles. He had broad shoulders and large arms. He was built like a brick shithouse.
I felt my eyes scan over his entire figure – from his short brown hair, to his hazel eyes, all the way to his gorgeously broad chest, his defined stomach, and his large… really large… um… male-appendage. The more my eyes fell downward, the more flushed I became, and as if on perfect cue – as if I wasn’t already completely blushed to hell – he wagged his hips causing his, ahem… appendage to jiggle.
“Like what you see?” he chuckled, still shaking it at me.
“Uh,” I stammered, appalled and embarrassed to hell. My eyes shot away from his groin after realizing that I was staring and off to the side of his ear. I couldn’t look at him. Not directly. I wanted to scream. I wanted to slap him in the face and call him a creep. But I didn’t. The only thing I managed was a choked, “I have to go,” before running away.
And I do mean, running.
I honestly don’t think it’d be possible to run away as quickly as I had, but there was no coming back from the fact that I was so blatantly staring at his junk.
But then again, why the hell was he walking around naked?!
My head was still reeling when I walked passed an open dorm room. It was Kara and Madison’s. They’d introduced themselves to Lindsey and I on the first day we moved in. They were both freshman and still had that high-school mentality if I’d ever seen it.
Kara thought she was Queen Bee, and so did her friends – well, followers. And, as I passed, I noticed that they were all still in their night clothes: tight black tops, skinny jeans, and high heels – all varying, but all wearing pretty much the same thing.
All I heard as I approached was, “sorority” this, or “sorority rush” that. I tried to power past them and on toward the shower. They clearly hadn’t been to sleep and were still on a high that I clearly was not on. They were also on high alert for that matter because, as soon as I was walking passed the room, they laughed.
“I take it you just saw Devon!” one of the four girls giggled.
“Are you blushing?!” Kara shrieked, laughter from all the dimwits commencing just after.
I rolled my eyes. My cheeks had to be flaming. How else would someone be able to tell that?! But I wouldn’t doubt it. I’d never seen a naked man before, let alone one that good looking. I guess it was only natural to blush like I was.
“That’s my boyfriend,” Kara said matter-of-factly, with a slight scowl on her face. It was like she was trying to take possession of him. As if this was high school 2.0, which is something I knew she already thought.
“Great one you got there,” I laughed, as if I didn’t give one single solitary fuck in the world. And the truth was, I didn’t. I didn’t care at all what sort of claim she had on the naked weirdo in the hallway, no matter how good looking he was.
Chapter Four – Devon
The sun shone through the curtains, burning my corneas as I opened my eyes one at a time.
“Hey, man, you need to get up. You have a lab this morning…” My roommate, Aaron said. He was a nice guy and all, but damn it all, I couldn’t wait to move into the frat house. His constant need to act like my mom was, honestly, just a bit tiresome.
I groaned, wiping my eyes.
“Dude, come on…” he urged some more.
“Okay. Okay." I held my hands up in defeat and threw my legs over the edge of the bed, slightly cringing at the cold tile against my bare feet.
I sighed and walked toward my dresser, not realizing I was still naked from the night before until I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror that Aaron had been busying himself looking in to fix his hair.
“Bro!” Aaron groaned, his long, slender arms extended out to the mirror, likely blocking out my body from view. I could see his reflection in the m
irror and laughed at his tightly closed eyes, and scrunched up face. “Cover that thing up!”
I laughed again, amused.
That was probably the only thing that kept tears from forming at the brim of my eyes. My head was throbbing with a pain that scattered from my temples to my crown. There was no denying the fact that I had a hangover from hell.
I grabbed hold of a pair of boxers and stepped into them. “You can look now, you big baby.” I chuckled and watched as his eyes opened, and an expression of contentment scattered across his face.
“Thank God. I thought I went blind.”
“I know! So big it poked your eye from over here,” I laughed. "Alright, guess I need to get to class.” I said, mockingly at the tall, skinny guy in front of me. I threw a shirt on and grabbed my pants from a couple days ago off the floor and tossed them over my shoulder. “I'll see you later.” I bent down and grabbed my shoes and walked out the door.
Getting dressed on the go wasn’t out of the norm for me.
Neither were the stares.
I was used to everyone staring at me. Didn’t mean I really liked it, though.
I mean, sure, at parties, it was fun. When it was a line of girls ready to do – naughty – but wonderful things to me, I was all for it. But when I was trying to get to class, and I felt eyes plastered on me, that’s when I was starting to feel a little weirded out.
“Devon!” a deep male voice called as soon as I rounded the corner from my dorm building, toward the biology building. “Hey man, wait up!” the voice called again. My head turned to see a thin, gangly guy jogging to catch up from me.
He was panting already, and I chuckled. “Hey, what’s up?” I asked, my brow cocking toward him.
“Hey man…” he gasped. “Woo.. it’s hot out here.” It wasn’t. He was out of shape. “I’m an RA in your building – well temporary building – I hear you’re rushing. And I just wanted to know if you’d sign this for me…” He pulled a bag off of his back and unzipped. I squinted to look at him through the sun and smiled, politely.
I knew what he was about to pull out of the bag, and as soon as his hands retrieved it, I feigned a sense of humility. “Oh, man… I haven’t even gotten to play yet…” I laughed.
He held the football up to me and smiled, his eyes finally looking at me directly. “I know you’re going to be big. Can I get an autograph?”
I nodded. “Sure…” He held a permanent marker up before I even got the chance to ask for one and I took it.
It felt nice, don’t get me wrong, but it was also a bit overwhelming.
I hadn’t gotten to play yet. I shouldn’t be regarded as anything more than a Freshman starter, in all reality. No matter who my dad was or how well I played in high school. This was a whole different playing field. This was the last stop before the NFL. The competition was a lot more fierce. Especially at a school this large.
As I finished scribbling my name, a few other people gathered around.
Much to my dismay. I didn’t want to seem like a dick, but I had a science lab I needed to get to. Not that I was good at science. I was actually pretty terrible at it. I skated by in school. Just barely passed. Not that anyone cared – which is probably why I hadn’t.
The only thing I’d ever been remotely good at was math and physics. Not that anyone ever noticed. Not that anyone needed to. Especially my dad, who would have loved the attention I was getting. He would have told me there was no need for class; to stay a little longer with my fans, since they were the ones that I’d be working to please.
“This is your meal ticket, Son,” he would always say.
It was those words that made me turn away from even thinking about finishing school.
I’d once thought about staying in college all four years, not drafting out. I thought about staying, getting an engineering degree or something. I didn’t want to bail on an education; but Dad would have never stood for that. Not ever.
So I gave up thinking about not bailing.
I gave up trying a long time, and let everyone think what they already thought: that I was a big, dumb jock.
It seemed easier to pretend to be dumb than explain why I cared about mathematics. I mean, after all, if I was going to be an NFL star, why would I need it? I would have advisors, accountants, agents – I would have basically everyone in the world doing things that the dumb jock didn’t know how to do.
The only thing I’d ever need to know was how to run a football; how not to get hurt; and how to please the fans. The people surrounding me at school already. Those were my “meal ticket” not class.
I sighed as I pressed away from the group toward the Biology building. I was used to pretending to be something that I wasn’t. I was good at it. I had completely donned the persona. Rich, playboy, football star. I’d learned it from the best; how to be an asshole.
My dad had been the best coach I’d ever had when it came to that.
Chapter Five – Callie
I bent over the black-top lab desk and stared at my biology professor as he spoke at the front of the room. He was pacing in front of a large whiteboard with a projection pulled down in front of it, and his steps remained inside a small vicinity from the five feet between the podium and a long, white table covered with papers.
“So,” he began, “I usually have a student teaching assistant instructing my labs, but it looks like mine actually had to take a step back from the position. So for the first month, it looks like I will be instructing the lab as well.” He took a deep breath, clearly frustrated by his lack of a teaching assistant. “That being said, now that you’re in my class, I only have a couple of requirements.”
He turned to us fully, and walked a few feet closer, no longer pacing. “Always be on time, never be absent, and when you’re here, be ready to work.”
And, as if on some sort of cue, the lab door opened and the guy from earlier that morning, whom I barely recognized with clothes on, came strutting in.
“You’re late. What’s your name?” the professor asked, as the young man shuffled toward the lab tables, his brown hair a mess, clothes wrinkled, and eyes squinting.
“I thought teaching assistants taught lab?” Devon asked, smirking at Dr. Wilson. “But you’re the same guy in lecture, right?”
“I am. Now, what’s your name?” Dr. Wilson gritted his teeth. He’d just explained the reason he was there, teaching lab, and he’d also just said he didn’t tolerate tardiness. It was obvious that Devon had just made his tardiness even worse by showing why it was such a big deal; asking questions that had already been answered, for one.
“Devon,” the tall, dark-haired, drink of water said with a smile, completely unfazed by the fact that he was one step closer to getting ripped a new asshole from the professor.
“Grab a seat, Devon, and next time, don’t be late.”
I cringed, and scooted down the bench seating, still embarrassed that I’d just seen the guy naked. Not that he seemed to be bothered by it, or hell, notice me at all for that matter. He was too busy high-fiving all of his football-player buddies at the front of the lab, and I could do nothing but roll my eyes.
“To the serious students,” Dr. Wilson cleared his throat loudly, clearly still frustrated. “This is a weed-out class. These buffoons won’t be here much longer.” He was pointing to Devon and his friends.
As soon as Devon realized it, he turned on his heel and looked at the professor, his eyes squinted as if honing in on him. As if his eyes were lasers and he could somehow destroy him with one look. But Dr. Wilson only glared back. “Have a seat,” he said, a little more sternly.
Too bad that the only available space was next to me, and that’s exactly where Dr. Wilson was pointing. I groaned, and scooted down on my lab bench a little more, as if I could somehow disappear. But that didn’t work. He’d already seen me. As soon as Dr. Wilson pointed to my table, I watched as his cocky smirk formed, and I knew right then that he recognized me.
“Oh wow! Old friends u
nite.” He laughed as he sat down.
“So, Devon, is it?” Dr. Wilson asked, as he leaned over our table, his face as close to Devon’s as he could possibly get it.
“Yep.”
“Devon what?” Dr. Wilson blinked at Devon, a smile aching to curve.
“Halloway,” Devon trailed in a whisper, as if it should have been already known.
I scoffed out loud, immediately regretting it because his eyes glanced over at me, but who did he think he was?
“Well, Devon Halloway, since you were tardy, you’re going to be my first volunteer.”
“Magic show?” Devon joked, displaying a cocky smirk all over again.
Dr. Wilson sighed and pushed himself up off the desk, so that he was standing up straight. “A single piece of coiled DNA is known as what?” he asked, and my palm immediately hit my forehead.
It was such an easy question.
Devon just stared at the older man, his eyes flickering across the man’s face.
I sighed, and Dr. Wilson spoke again. “Each human cell has twenty-three pair of them.”
I wanted to scream. The man was basically giving him the answer.
“Sexual partners?” he asked, his face blank. I wasn’t sure if he was being facetious or if he was serious.
“I guess science doesn’t come as naturally as football does, does it?” Dr. Wilson sighed and turned back to the front of the class. Usually, I hated when professors acted the way Dr. Wilson was acting – calling people out for their ignorance instead of teaching them, but Devon was being an idiot. Obviously, he was there on a football scholarship. He had no business in this class.
“You?” Dr. Wilson asked, looking over to me.
I pointed to myself, confused. “Me?”
“Do you know the answer?” he asked, using his hands to gesture for me to hurry up.
“Chromosomes.” I sighed.
“That’s right.” He smiled. “What’s your name?”
