by D. D. Miller
She was standing at the doorway looking around, hand on her hip, annoyed. She was one in a sea of girls all over campus Sean found generically attractive. Blond, big eyed. First or second year, still with that roundness of youth, still tanned a deep brown from the summer. Her T-shirt was too tight. It was white and had a pink star in the centre between her breasts. Even from that distance he could see the outline of her bra. She was wearing shorts, very short shorts. Her thighs were thick, her legs long, rounded.
He heard Evelyn’s voice; he could register that she was still talking, but he couldn’t listen. “She’s a girl,” he said.
“Sorry?” Evelyn tilted her head, stared at him.
Sean finally turned away from the girl and looked back at Evelyn. He swallowed. “I haven’t yet, you know . . .”
“What?” Evelyn looked at him. She picked up the schedule, printed out on a clipboard. “Sorry?” she said again.
“Girl. I didn’t know it was a girl.” On the schedule it said Sam McKinnon: Computer basics.
Evelyn laughed. “There are lots of girls at the college. Some of them even come for tutoring.”
He could sense Sam approaching from behind him and could imagine her staring at him. She was probably already judging him. Planning on how to humiliate him. She would be derisive during their sessions. She would be disgusted by him. She would stare at the pimple forming on his forehead. The slick greasiness of his skin. Sam would ridicule how out of shape he was. She would judge his shoes – especially his shoes – and she would rush off to mock him to her friends.
Then she was there beside him, and she was talking to Evelyn. He stared straight ahead.
“Hey, Sean.” Sam reached out her hand.
“Sean, this is Sam,” Evelyn said when he didn’t move.
“Yeah. Um. Hi,” he said and reached out his hand. He felt the wetness of his palm and noticed that his hand was the same size as hers. He didn’t want her to look at his fingers. They were thin. They were thin and pointy and he knew his hands were the kind of hands that had never worked; that had never done anything but type on a keyboard.
“So you’re gonna get me off AP?” She smiled at him. He had to look down. Her hand was at her side. Her fingers were folding into her palm to rub away his dampness.
“Here,” he said and pointed to two seats at one of the round tables. There were two other sets of students at it. He couldn’t be alone with her.
She went over toward the table and flung her backpack onto it. Sean followed and sat next to her. Her hair was shoulder-length, thin and very straight. Her bangs were cut at her eyebrows. He noticed her eyebrows were much darker. He tried not to, but he couldn’t help think that was the colour of her pubic hair.
“Where do we start?” she asked, but he didn’t hear her.
He had to jog across the parking lot to the dorm hunched over to hide his erection. He ran into the apartment and turned on his computer. He sat, his fingers drumming out a beat on the table beside his keyboard. He closed his eyes and all that he saw was Sam. Her legs. What it would feel like to sink his fingers into the thickness of her thigh.
When the computer was on he typed freefunforboys.com into his browser and went to the site. The daily uploads were listed at the top of the screen: three thumbnail teasers per row. He scanned them, then the next row. He scanned the tiny images of the girls, looking for just the right one.
He clicked on one and the video popped up. He undid his pants. He masturbated as the video played out, a simple scene with a girl and a guy on the couch. But it wasn’t right. She wasn’t right. Her hair was too long, too platinum. Her groin was shaved. She was too thin.
The next video he tried was closer. The girl was more athletic. She had the dyed blond hair; the bangs; a trimmed, dark V of pubic hair. She was in a kitchen and squatting in front of a man who leaned back against the counter. He was muscular, his cock so long and veiny that it made Sean uncomfortable, but he just focused on her. On the way her thighs stretched as she squatted, on her hand between her own legs, touching herself. He closed his eyes and sat back, listening to the video, the sloppy wetness of it, and imagined him and Sam in one of the private tutor booths. His hand was on her thigh, so white against her tanned skin, and she placed her hand over his. She moved it up her leg. He could feel everything, the little blond hairs, every little ridge of muscle, every littler shiver. His fingers slid between her thighs, underneath the edge of her shorts. He felt the band of her underwear and slipped his finger under it. Sam moaned.
MajorMajor
Cant find it anymore. cmysuicide?
The Doomer
she made news. bigtime shit. Gonzo. theres other plases
MajorMajor
Where?
The Doomer
sitesnshit wer suiciders hangoutnchat
MajorMajor
About what
The Doomer
how y sending link
MajorMajor
Thanks. Hey, I met a girl
The Doomer
No one dose it onlin tho too risky
MajorMajor
Yeah it was wierd to c her do it
The Doomer
u met a girl. A camgirl lol
MajorMajor
No, a girl at school
The Doomer
i get off ondatshit
MajorMajor
Shes hot
The Doomer
the offinself stuff. watchin fat chick go wasfcked
MajorMajor
it made me feel wierd. I dont know how i feel
The Doomer
yer girl no u 2 met :)
MajorMajor
Funny. Yeah she knows
The Doomer
u love it
MajorMajor
The girl? The Fat chick?
The Doomer
Watchin her do it
MajorMajor
The suicider? Maybe
The Doomer
Im gonna pretnd toba suicider n talk to em
MajorMajor
Really? Why?
The Doomer
Itll b hilarys.
MajorMajor
Yea. Cool. I gotta go
The Doomer
gotta go b wit yer chik
MajorMajor
Lol. Sleep. school in am
The Doomer
so yul b wit her in yer dreams lol
MajorMajor
FU
The Doomer
Sweet wet dreems. Doomer out
“I can’t think about stupid computers, I gotta write an essay.”
“You’re going to use a computer to write that essay.”
“Whatever.”
It was their third session, and she’d insisted that they go into a booth. He set up his laptop and tried to focus on the screen. Sam was wearing a skirt. A short, greyish skirt and one of those tank tops with thin straps.
“I’ll cheat. I’ll pull something off the Internet.” She had her face glued to her iPhone. Now that they were alone, she was turning into the person he thought she would be: unresponsive, bored.
“You can’t cheat,” he said, glancing over at her. “You can’t do that.” He tried to look away, but he couldn’t.
She crossed her legs, the skirt slipping up her thigh. “Sure I can. There are tons of essays and stuff online.” Her finger slid across the screen of her iPhone.
“Teachers aren’t that stupid.” Sean wondered what she was looking at. Her tank top clung to her. He kept picturing himself sliding his finger down along the groove between her breasts, cupping them.
“I’ll, like, change the words around and stuff.” She puffed out her lips and blew air up her face, fluttering her bangs along her eyebrows. “The font.”
“Teachers aren’t that stupid,” he said again.
“Some of them are,” she said and finally looked up from the screen. She grinned a little grin, and Sean had to look away.
&nb
sp; She could do anything she wanted, he knew. She could fuck her teachers to get anything she wanted. “I don’t think they’re that stupid.”
She didn’t respond, just refocused on her screen. He looked at the clock on his computer. It had been ten minutes already. “This really isn’t hard, you know. I can teach it to you in twenty minutes. Everything you’ll need to know to pass the test,” he said. She was in the most basic of all computer classes: Documents for Admin Assistants. A course devoted solely to learning the ins and outs of Word, Excel and PowerPoint.
“The essay is due in two days, and I haven’t even picked a topic.” She slid her iPhone along the table, uncrossed her legs and sat up. She smiled. “You could write it for me.” She leaned forward, and Sean stared at the neckline of her shirt, wondering how far she’d go. How much he’d see. “Like instead of tutoring me, you could just write this stupid essay.”
“What?” He could see her bra: the blue edges of it.
She dragged the chair forward, coming closer. He could smell her. Shampoo and sweat. Slightly pungent. She reached across the table, and he thought she was going to touch him, but she stopped there, tapped her fingers. Her fingers were long and looked strong. They looked older than the rest of her. Her nails were painted red, but they were chipped and growing out. The nail on her index finger was much shorter than the others. He imagined her hand slipping under the table and out of sight. Imagined her asking him what it would take to get him to write her essay. He could feel her long fingers moving up his thigh and then the palm of her hand pressing against him as she undid his pants. She reached in and pulled him out. He saw her long fingers stroking him slowly.
“Whaddya think?” She pulled her hand away from the table and sat back.
“Um,” he started, but couldn’t find the words. He could barely think. He looked at his computer screen. Focused on it, the blank Word document. “No,” he said. “I could lose my job.” He looked down at his shoes.
“You’re not an English tutor anyway, right?” she said, slumping in her chair.
“Right,” he said, although he knew the kind of essays she had to write for her composition class and could easily pump one out.
She grabbed her iPhone again and sat back. “You know, we don’t have to do anything. You get paid whatever we do, right?”
He nodded, but she didn’t even look up to acknowledge him.
“So, like, we can just sit here and you can sign my AP form and everything’s fine.” She was back to touching away at her screen.
Sean took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He appreciated the moment of silence. Then Sam giggled. “What’re you looking at?” he asked.
“Nothing, just some stupid website.”
“What website?” He touched the mouse pad and moved his cursor to Firefox and went online.
“You ever heard of hotterorfodder.com?”
He typed in the URL and the page came up. There was a lot of advertising for dating websites and a picture of a woman in the centre. “What is it?”
She shuffled over, dragging the chair up beside him. The scent of her again. “So these people are total losers, right. They upload their pictures and you vote on whether or not you think the photos are hot or if they should be dumped from the site. I guess it’s been around forever.”
Sam reached over toward the computer and her fingers touched Sean’s. He pulled his hand out of the way quickly. He looked at the picture of the girl. She was young, early twenties, dressed mostly in black. She had on a T-shirt covered in black skulls with bow ties. Above the photo there was a list of flames of various sizes that represented the numbers one to ten.
“Gross. So emo,” Sam said. She clicked the smallest fire, just a little spark amongst a pile of wood. “I guess she could be all right if she didn’t hide under all that black shit.” Sam was enthralled. He watched her go through a few of them, analyzing each one carefully before assigning a fire and moving on.
Eventually Sam noticed a sidebar ad for the new Kween video. Kween was some sixteen-year-old Aussie pop star who was the latest big thing. All Sean knew about her was that she dressed in elaborate costumes and made the kind of dance-pop music that all sounded the same to him. The world was pumping out pop stars faster than he could keep up. But he watched the video, fascinated. At one point, near the end, when the music had ramped up to a grinding, industrial peak, Kween appeared under a strobe light, her face painted like a skull, naked except for strategically placed pieces of black electrical tape. Other young girls made up similarly surrounded her, placed their hands all over her as she wailed.
“Oh my god, I’ve got an even better site!” She shoved herself over, directly in front of the laptop and began to type. She pushed her body against his. He could feel her hip nudging him. “Ewwww!” She shook in disgust and brought her hands up to her face, closed her eyes. She had a huge grin on her face.
He looked at the screen. There was a photo of a toilet bowl, a long brown piece of shit floated in yellow water. The top of the page said Rate My Poo.
“Hey, Sean,” she said. “This is the best peer tutoring session ever.” She gave the shit a ten and another popped up. He watched her feign disgust, but giggle and burn red. Her pupils danced, taking in every corner of the shot.
“Six,” Sean said. “Six.”
“Six? Why?” Sam looked at him.
He pointed at the screen, his finger resting just in front of it. He traced the outline of the piece of feces on the screen. “It looks like a six on its side,” he said.
“Oh my god! You’re totally right!” She burst out laughing and rated it. Another image popped up. Then another. It was endless.
The end of the session came too quickly.
“Hey,” she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “I’m heading over to the pub to get a drink with some friends. You in?”
Sean stared at her.
“So?” She stood there for a few moments at the door.
“I, um.” He wanted to say yes. “I have another student,” he said.
“So, come over after.” She shifted the bag on her shoulder, her hand slipping under the strap. She shrugged. “Well, if you can make it.” She turned. “Thanks for your help!” Sam laughed and exited the booth.
It was only four o’clock, and the bar was nearly empty. Sean had barely consumed alcohol in his life, and he’d never been in the campus bar. It was functional: slick concrete floors, plain brown tables, a pool table in one corner, a dartboard on the back wall. The only particular draw seemed to be a huge flat screen TV that was broadcasting sports highlights.
Sean only regretted his decision after he’d sat down at the table and been introduced to everyone. There was another girl named Parvati and three guys, but Sean forgot their names as soon as they were introduced. The guys reminded Sean of the jocks he went to high school with. They dressed in the same blue jeans and sports T-shirts. Sweaters with the school’s name on it. They were usually zoned out on iPods, drifting through the halls with stunned expressions on their faces. Ball caps slightly askew. They didn’t know what to make of Sean, and one guy in a Maple Leafs shirt spoke to him like he was a barely tolerated little brother, but they kept topping up his glass with beer from the pitcher. He forgot how alcohol hit him from behind the eyes first. A little hum there.
Sam and Parvati got up to use the bathroom. Sean didn’t want to be alone with the guys, so he followed them. Sam was ahead of him, and he watched her turn into the hall where the bathrooms were. He turned the corner as the door swung shut. He imagined walking up to it, pushing it open and entering. Walking up to the stall Sam was in and knocking on it. He imagined opening it and pushing her up against the wall behind the toilet, sitting her down on the back of the toilet and kissing her, and it was wet and sloppy, and he shoved his tongue in her mouth so hard that her head knocked against the wall. He slid his hands up the sides of her legs, gathered her skirt up around her waist and then dragged her panties down her thighs. He knelt, hover
ing over the toilet beneath him and buried his face between her legs. She grabbed his hair in a bunch and pushed, squeezing her thighs together against his face.
Sean gathered water in his palms from the faucet. He splashed it over his face. There was a thud thud thud in his chest and his vision was blurred. He was so hard his erection pushed against his pants, rubbed, got harder. He tried to hide it but he couldn’t. He walked toward a stall and the bathroom door swung open. Maple Leafs shirt walked in. Sean turned his body quickly.
“Hey Tutor,” Maple Leafs shirt said, walking up to one of the urinals.
“Hey,” Sean said and went into the stall. He sat down on the toilet seat and closed his eyes. He tried to think of anything but Sam. The guy out there holding his dick; his piss spraying against the back of the urinal. The guy washed his hands and exited. After a few more moments, Sean stood up and exited too.
When he got back to the table, the guys were silent. They wouldn’t look at him. One of them, the biggest of the three, seemed on the verge of bursting. He brought his beer to his lips, but couldn’t drink it. He finally started laughing and Maple Leafs shirt hit him in the shoulder. “Shut up,” he said, but was smiling as he said it.
Sean kept his head down, but he could feel them looking at him.
“You gettin’ off in the guy’s washroom?” the bigger guy asked and the three of them finally stopped holding back.
“Where’s your stiffy, dude? You have a little tug in there or what?”
Sean stood up, turned around and began to walk very quickly away from the table. He saw Sam and Parvati returning from the bathroom. He walked quicker.
“Hey, what’s up?” He heard Sam ask. “Sean?” she yelled. Then he heard talking at the table, more laughter. “You can be such an asshole, Darius,” Sam said loud enough for Sean to hear.
