Dorm Game (The Brazen Boys) by Daryl Banner

Author:Daryl Banner [Banner, Daryl]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Frozenfyre Publishing
Published: 2015-02-24T08:00:00+00:00

[ 7 ]

Two trying weeks later, I would discover that Andrew and I had made a C- on our paper. More accurately, I had made a C- on our paper, as I was its only author. It was the first C- I’d ever made in my entire life. High school showered me in A’s and B’s. Every other class, I saw A’s and B’s, and when I saw that C- on the paper, I felt a stab of joy.

Yes, a stab of joy. That C- was my freedom. That C- was my permission to let the fuck go, to relax, to slay the demon of perfection that had so haunted my adolescence. “C fucking minus,” I said, reading the grade aloud. Some guy next to me gave me a sympathetic frown, leaned in and said, “Sorry, dude. Better luck next time.” His face turned queer when the smile of pride washed over my face, beaming positively at the C- and the world that’d been opened before me and everything that stupid, shitty grade meant.

But with the ending of the psychology project, Andrew and I no longer had a reason to meet. Not that the paper was ever fully our focus. But I could not let us drift apart, not after what had been so suddenly and hotly birthed between our warring, playful minds.

“Hey, Andy,” I called out, chasing after him through the doors when class had ended.

Without turning around, I heard him grunt, “Don’t call me that.”

I had caught up to him, walking beside him on the road between the psych hall and the architecture building. “Where you off to?”

“Algebra.”

“Want to grab lunch after?”

“No.”

I was reaching here. Totally fucking desperate. That psych paper couldn’t be the only thing that brought us together. There had to be something more. “So what’re you doing after Algebra, then?”

“Going home.”

“Do you live on campus?”

“No.”

“Do you want to?”

“Maybe.”

“Why don’t you want to grab some lunch before you leave, then?”

“I’ll get it on my own.”

I stood in front of him, exasperated. I couldn’t let this dream slip away from me so easily. “What the fuck, Andrew?”

He walked around me, not daunted in the least by my sad attempt at trying to stop him. He just kept going, sauntering down the path without paying me a cent of mind. He was near the door to the algebra building. I had to act fast.

“How about a deal then?” I shouted at his back as he reached the door. “If your Algebra class is totally lame as fuck, then I win, and you gotta come to my dorm afterwards for lunch.”

To that, he turned his head, gave me a big grin, then flicked me off as he disappeared into the math building. I took that to mean the deal was accepted.

An hour later, he knocked on my dorm room door. “Lame as fuck,” he agreed when I answered.

And so it began. For weeks, we expertly snuck around my roommate’s schedule—which blissfully consisted of a lot of trips back home,

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