Class ended early when the professor made some excuse about having to go to the doctor. He probably was going to office to screw one of his assistants. Why was I paying so much for college when the teachers didn't even want to be there? I collected my heavy books and left, dreading the four-hour wait until my next class started.
I walked across the large green lawn with students sunbathing on towels. This was a school not a beach. Did these girls come to class wearing skimpy bikini's or did they bring them in their backpacks? They probably weren't even enrolled in classes here.
I sat down on the edge of a planter and went over my notes for my next class: Algebra 101. I thought I could avoid math when I got to college but it turned out to be a requirement for my major.
I wanted to become a physical therapist to help people get back on their feet. The salary for entry positions were high so that couldn't hurt either. I had already done forty hours or so of volunteer work and loved it so far. Maybe I could finally move away and get out from under Byron's thumb.
My parents died when I was too young to remember and I was adopted by a nice black family. All I remember them telling me was that they died in a car crash. I'd later find out that they were shot and killed coming out of a convenience store. Who the fuck goes and shoots up a convenience store? They barely hold any cash.
It was a little weird at first, being the only white person in the house but I got used to it fairly quickly. My adopted parents were so nice to me. My adopted brother Byron was only a few years older than me and he acted like a true big brother. The only problem was he got more and more protective as we grew up. He'd go as far as preventing me from dating, telling guys in high school that he'd shoot them up.
Hell, I didn't even get to go to my senior prom because Byron scared my date into bailing on me. The funny thing was, back then, Byron didn't even own a gun. He was all talk. Nobody wanted to mess with a big black man. Especially me.
“Patrick, you need to stop studying!” a voice yelled from far away.
I looked up from my notes to see Heather bouncing to me, wearing nothing but a gold bikini. Her blonde short hair looked golden in the sunlight. Heather had been one of my best friends in high school and we both went off to the same college.
After awhile though, our interests kind of grew in different directions. I was more into school work and Heather was more into getting laid every day of the week. This was supposed to be the time we figured out who we were and what we wanted to do with the rest of our lives. Not how many dicks I can suck.
“I can't stop, there might be a pop quiz today.”
Heather plopped down next to me, stretching and yawning. “You need to relax a bit. Every time I see you, you're stressed out to the max. You're going to blow a gasket if you don't take care of yourself. Lay off the books for a moment and take in all the surroundings.” Heather kicked her tanned legs out like she was a little girl.
I rolled my eyes at her. Heather always knew how to blow things out of proportion. “How can you wear a bikini around school?” I asked, trying to change the subject. Heather's boobs were almost falling out of her top. I'd be worried constantly that a nipple would slip out.
Heather looked down at her outfit and fixed her bikini top so her tits didn't flop out. “If you hadn't noticed, Patrick, it's a hundred degrees out. Plus the boys can't stop staring.”
I rolled my eyes.
Heather slapped my jeans, laughing. “There's a big party tonight at some frat house tonight. I only got an invite because I know a guy that knows a guy. I'm allowed to bring someone and I thought it'd be fun if you came with.”
I shook my head immediately. “Not my kind of thing, Heather.” She always knows a guy that knows a guy. She probably slept with both of them.
Heather draped her arm around me and made those puppy-dog eyes. “Oh pretty, pretty please, Patrick. There's going to be so many hot guys. We can finally find you a nice gay man.”
“I don't need a man,” I replied, turning my attention back to my notes.
Heather grabbed my shoulders and shook me. “You frustrate me so much, Patrick. You're so hot and can get any guy you want. Yet you do nothing about it.”
My baggy shirt and loose jeans deemed otherwise. “So not true, Heather.”
Heather looked me straight in the eyes. “That's because you never put yourself out there. How can anyone ask you out when your head is stuck in a book? Come to the party tonight and I'll show you.”
I closed my eyes and shook my head, hoping that Heather would just vanish. I really needed to get back to studying. If there was a pop quiz in Algebra, I was going to be screwed.
Heather leaned over and whispered in my ear, “John is going to be there.”
My eyes shot open and my ears perked up. John was the dreamy hot guy that took a lot of the same classes as me. I fantasized all the time about him taking me in his arms and kissing my lips passionately. He asked me once for notes and I about came in my pants.
“Doesn't matter, Heather. Even if I worked up the nerve to talk to him, he might not even be gay,” I told her.
Heather stretched out my baggy t-shirt that said Camp Winnmore. “I have pretty good gaydar. Trust me, John will be eating out of your hands.” She winked at me.
I blushed again. The thought of John running his tongue up and down my shaft made me melt. I shoved Heather hard and she rocked back. “You're so gross,” I said.
“Don't try to deny it, Patrick. You know you want it.”
I tried to ignore Heather and continued studying. Maybe going out tonight wouldn't be so terrible.