DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE
Chapter 7
by Donny Mumford
Inside the always crowded Quad, I'm walking towards a table where Robby, Golden, and another freshman baseball player are sitting. They're talking baseball probably, but as I get closer it appears the third person at the table isn't on Merrimack's baseball team after all. Instead she's a cute girl wearing Robby baseball cap with the bill to the side. Robby looks up and sees me coming through the throng of students and gives me his special smile, which I return automatically. When I'm at the table Robby and I keep our greeting simple by merely slapping palms. Standing next to him I give his bicep a light punch, "Yo, Rob..." and he says, "Hey, glad you finally showed up, babe." I mumble, "Lost track of time, I guess." Holding my fist out to Golden, I go, "Whassup, my favorite barber?" He bumps fists, mumbling, "Nothin' much. How you doing, Dylan?" Robby points his thumb towards the cute blond girl on his right, saying, "Dylan, meet the president of my fan club," and he blurts out a laugh, adding, "That's what she claims anyway, Francesca Flores," I lean across Robby to shake fingers with her, saying, "Hi, I'm Dylan." She goes, "And, oh my, Dylan, you're even better looking in person. Um, and please call me Frankie; everyone does." I mumble, "Okay, Frankie," and she adds, "When I'm called Francesca," and she pronounces it with a thick Spanish accent, "I'm afraid people will expect me to jump up and do a flamenco dance, clicking castanets with my fingers." I'm like, "Oh, really? Uum, no, I didn't think that at all. I'm not even sure what it means."
Everyone chuckles as I sit down, asking, "So, Frankie, you're president of Rob's fan club, huh?" She nods enthusiastically, "Yep, and proud of it too! I started the fan club last year and it's doubled in size since then." I make a face at Robby, like, 'Really?' then mutter, "Ya got a fan club, huh, Rob?" He snorts, "So she claims," and Golden says, "Not to put it down or anything, but so far Rob's entire fan club consists of Frankie and her friend."
I say to Frankie, "Oh, you started it alone and now there are two members, counting yourself." She goes, "Yes, me and Beth Underwood. Do you know her?" I shake my head as Robby smirks, then slowly shakes his head too.
Obviously feeling uncomfortable about the subject matter, Robby stands, saying, "Well, back here on earth, I'm going to get a Coke. Can I get anyone a soda or something?" I go, "I'd love an iced tea with lemon." The others shake their heads and Robby makes his way towards a row of vending machines. I ask Golden, "How'd your mentoring go today?" He grins, "Rob's a tough mentor. Let's see, um, we bullshit with the guys in the locker room for a couple of hours and then came over here." Frankie says, "Golden, sweetheart, that bullshit session is how you bond with your new teammates." He nods his head, then asks her, "You're a junior, right?" and she goes, "No, a sophomore, but I go for older men." I ask her, "Is Rob the older man you're interested in now?" She makes the cutest face, saying, "No, sweetie, he's taken already," and she points at me, "By you!" I blush a dark red, not expecting that at all. She goes, "Don't blush, Dylan, you two make the cutest couple on campus. Rob showed me your picture; the one he carries in his wallet.
You're on a beach and, oh my God, you are so hot!" Golden says, "Yeah, Frankie's been giving Rob the third degree. By now I imagine Rob's told her all your secrets." I go, "Oh Jesus! I hope not." She reaches across the table and pats my hand, saying, "Beth and I are merely his fan club. We know we're not worthy of being more than that; so no worries about competition from us." I'm hardly believing this as Golden asks Frankie, "Does Beth go for younger guys?" and she asks, "Meaning freshmen, like you, Golden?" He grins, "Yeah, why not me? Beth's hot, and..." He doesn't finish because Robby's back with the two cans of soft drinks, plus there's a girl following him.
She stands behind me with her hands on my shoulders and lean down so she's looking at the side of my face. I turn my head a little, leaning away from her, thinking, 'What the fuck...?' as she squeals, "He's even cuter than Rob."
I'm blushing again as Frankie reluctantly says, "Oh, it's true, I suppose"
and Robby mutters, "Oh, fuck me! "
The girl introduces herself as Beth Underwood and gives me a regular handshake, up and down one time, then she sits between Golden and me. Everyone else at the table obviously already knows who she is. To get the attention off me, I say, "Beth, um, young Golden here was wondering if you...," and Golden yells, "Dylan! Shut up!" Robby deadpans, "It's so wicked cool being back in a middle school cafeteria again." Frankie is very bubbly as she pats Rob's shoulder, "Don't be a grump. Golden's got a crush on Beth. Puppy love is so adorable." Golden lets out a long exhale, saying, "Now I'm supposed to be too shy to say anything, right? And then I pee my pants." There's some chuckling, as Golden adds, "No, seriously, that's what I'd have done in middle school." Beth says, "You boys aren't use to being around us female types, being you're gay and all." Golden's like, "Hey! I'm not gay! Just those two," pointing at Robby and me," then he smirks, adding, "Not that there's anything wrong with that."
Frankie and Beth are average size for girls at maybe five feet, four inches tall, and they're both slim. Frankie has smallish tits while Beth's are the opposite. She has grapefruit size jugs that seem firm, and she's obviously not wearing a bra because I see her nipples poking out the snug-fitting,
flimsy-material top she's wearing. Both girls are attractive although in different ways. Like I said, Frankie is cute and would make a really cute guy if she had testicles and a dick. She has blue eyes with blond hair, a really nice smile and super white teeth. Looks-wise she could be my sister, or Robby's. Her hair is short for a girl, but long for a guy. She's wearing Robby's hat so I can't see how she's combed her hair, but what I can see is wavy. She has what I think is called a peaches and cream complexion with only light touches of make-up. If I were straight I'd be happy to have her as my girlfriend. Beth is the same height with those big headlights protruding. She has a slightly darker complexion than Frankie with big dark sexy bedroom eyes. Just as nice a smile as Frankie's, and ditto for super white teeth. Her dark hair is pulled back in a ponytail with short curly hair across her forehead. I imagine straight guys would probably say she's definitely sexier than the cheerleader cuteness of Frankie. And, amazingly, neither girl has annoyed me yet. They don't giggle; they laugh a lot though and it's obvious they're all about having fun. I'll bet anything they get up in the morning smiling and cheery. That's my first impression anyway.
Frankie's telling a story about her and Beth at one of last year's Merrimack's baseball games. Robby apparently made an unbelievable acrobatic play at shortstop and later in the game hit a home run. That's when Frankie decided to start a fan club for him; that and the fact, in her words, he's yummy looking. As she's talking, two average looking guys walk by the table bumping into the back of her chair. They're both wearing baseball caps with straight bills. Frankie stops her story to glance at the guys; then, imitating black ghetto slang, she goes, "Yo, look at da two damn foos! Two wannabe gangsta's, flat-billing it." I flash a puzzled glance at Robby as the two guys roll their eyes, but keep moving along. 'Flat billing it,' refers to their hats with flat bills, as opposed to curved bills. Some baseball-style hats come with a flat bill, mostly they're referred to as 'farmer's' hats.
In my lifetime almost everyone curves the bill because everybody else does. Wearing the cap on the side, or backwards, used to be a statement of individuality, nonconformity, but it's been mostly passé for quite a while now.
Even so, I still like wearing my hat backwards at times, and fuck passé.
Continuing the middle school theme that Robby started a few minutes ago, Beth tells a couple of naughty experiences she and Frankie had in a Catholic middle school. They've been friends since kindergarten. Her hard to believe outlandish antidotes reminds Golden of a Catholic school joke: "Eight year old Zach was doing badly at math in school. He hated math and no matter how hard his parents tried, no matter the videos they bought that claimed to make math fun, nothing worked. Not being a religious family, they nevertheless, without real expectations that it would make a difference, enrolled Zach in a Catholic school for third grade. Shockingly Zach showed an immediate interest in math. He'd come home from school and go right to his room to do homework. His math grade was good on his first report card and even better on his second one. Both parents were thrilled but curious about the turn around. They hesitated questioning Zach for fear of jinxing things, but finally had to ask their son what the Catholic nuns were doing that was so different from his previous teachers. Zack's eyes opened wide, as he angrily says, 'Don't give me that shit! You two know very well why I got my ass in gear with math. The very first day of school I see a guy they nailed to a plus sign, and there are plus signs with guys nailed to them in every room all over the school, so I knew those bitches meant business!'... In case we're all lame and don't get the punch-line, he goes, "Heh heh, plus signs."
Then Frankie tells two jokes containing many 'F-bombs', and after the second f-bomb ladened joke, Golden says in a pompous voice, "Not to be critical, but I've always thought profanity a crutch used by inarticulate motherfuckers." That gets a laugh, then Beth says to Golden, "You have a sexy chin,"
and he goes, "I know, ya wanna go out with me?" Huh, I knew girls would think Golden's ass-chin was sexy. Beth answers Golden, "Yes, but only if we double date with the gay boys." Robby rolls his eyes, as I ask Frankie, "What's it cost to join Rob's fan club?" She goes, "It's a hundred dollars a year," and I mumble, "Never mind then," and we chuckle. Then I hear Chubby voice, so I look over and see him pushing people out of the way, saying, "Clear a path. Medical emergency." Chubby and John Beverly are escorting a girl who's holding out her hand that's wrapped in a paper napkin. Another girl is grinning, bringing up the rear. I yell, "Chub, what's the emergency?"
He looks over yelling back, "Dylan!" and he breaks away from his little group and comes over to grab my baseball cap off my head, mess my hair, kiss this top of my head, then plop my hat back on. That took all of two seconds, and then he does a double-take like he's surprised to see Frankie and Beth at our table. He goes, "Hello, ladies! You're not corrupting my innocent brother, are you?" Frankie goes, "Oh my God, you're Dylan's brother? Framingham boys just get hotter and hotter." I mumble, "Pay no attention to these girls, Chub. They're Rob's fan club." He goes, "Fan club, huh? Can I join?" I go, "The dues are a hundred dollars a year," and Chubby deadpans, "Oh, never mind then." Everyone laughs.
Golden says, "Hey, how about enlightening us with one of your factoids."
Chubby's like, "Ah, young Golden Summers is here too. A factoid, huh? Well, you might find this hard to believe, but there's something really rare about the month of February, 2016. Something so rare it won't happen again for years. What do you think it is?" Beth says, "Omitting leap year, February is the very rare month that has four Sundays, four Mondays, four Tuesdays; four of each day of the week for a perfect twenty-eight days?" Chubby stares at her for a second or two, then says, "That might be it, but how many years before it occurs again? Beth goes, "That would be 823 years." Chubby grins giving Beth the evil eye, then says to Golden, "Stay clear of that girl, Golden." I ask, "So is Beth correct?" Chubby goes, "I forget," and Beth says, "Golden's not staying clear of me; we're double dating with Rob and D ylan." Chubby's not used to being one upped like Beth just did to him, so he goes, "Hmmm, this is a very unusual group, and as much as it pains me, I must leave you to see about the medical emergency. My final advice for all of you kids is to do less chemicals and stop trolling on social media." I say, "Good advice Chub, but what's the medical emergency?" He says, "Oh, a paper cut between the first two fingers of Sandra's left hand. No bleeding but it's probably painful and...." Beth asks, with pretend sincerity, "Will Sandra need stitches, Chub?" Chubby snorts out a laugh, then says, "Probably not, but I'd prefer, if you don't mind, that you call me by my nickname, Jeffrey." She nods her head, "Okay, Jeffrey." He says, "You're very, um, sexy. Would you like to smoke a joint with me sometime, or share a cherry Coke?" She goes, "Damn! I'm going with Golden presently, but if we break up I'll text you." Chubby pats my head, muttering, "Well, there it is then... See ya later, Dylan." Robby and I grin, shrugging at each other as Chubby goes off. Beth says, "You know what, Golden, I may need to break up with you.
Jeffrey is hot!" Golden mutters, "Why you two-timing bitch!" and we all laugh.
After spending another half hour being stupid, Robby becomes the adult, and says, "It's been, um, indescribably wonderful, but Dylan and I must be going," and he gets up as Golden asks, "Are we getting together tomorrow, Rob?" Robby nods, "Yeah, of course, I'll text you and we'll do some baseball things with our teammates after class."
Oh man, that's right! Tomorrow college begins in earnest. I stand up with Robby and then the girls do too, with Francesca saying, "We'll be there too, Rob. We're bringing a sign identifying Beth and me as your fan club."
Robby goes, "Please do not do that," and we all begin making our way towards the exit. Outside Frankie goes up on her tiptoes and kisses Robby's cheek, then says, "See you around the diamond, Rob." Beth kisses Golden's cheek and he mumbles, "Will you go steady with me?" Beth says, "If I met you in seventh grade I'd definitely go steady with you, if only because of your cool name." At the bottom of the steps the two girls hustle off laughing about whatever in their bubbly manner. The three of us watch them for a few second, then I ask, "Are they dykes?" and both Golden and Robby laughs, then Golden says, "I'm afraid not. It appears they're going to make Rob their pet project this year." I go, "Well, they have a lot of energy and seem to be having a good time entertaining themselves." Robby lets out a long breath, then says, "They're kinda funny actually, but their fan club routine could quickly become a huge ball breaker for me." Golden pats Rob's shoulder, "Well, thanks for the mentoring, Rob, see you tomorrow afternoon." Robby mumbles, "Yeah, text me, freshman," and Golden walks to the left as we walk straight ahead towards the parking lot.
At the pickup, I say, "You're aware Francesca still has your hat, right?"
Robby touches his head, muttering, "Goddammit," and unlocks the pickup. I go, "You can get the hat back when you're admiring their fan club sign." He snorts a laugh, muttering, "Oh fuck..." We drive to the Royal Crest apartment complex in three minutes, then Robby slides the truck into the parking spot vacated by a car that just backed out of it. It's a primo spot in the first row of cars. He doesn't think anything of it, but I go, "Wow! Awesome parking spot, Rob." He chuckles, asking, "Are you still having problems with parking spots?" We get out, and as we walk to the back entrance, I tell him, "I'm having better luck this year," and, faking excitement, I go, "Just yesterday I found a spot in our lot. It was near the back, but in our lot!"
Robby grins and puts his arm across my shoulders to give a squeeze as we go inside, then up the stairs.
I shower first giving special attention to my ass. Ryan's cum-saturated handkerchief gets deep-sixed in the bathroom trashcan under many used tissues. I'll empty the trash after my shower. While Robby showers I drive to Stop & Shop to buy food that's enough for three or four dinners. Chubby told me he's eating in the dining hall and he acted excited about it, saying, "A brand new experience, bro. Dining hall dining." I told him, "I'm so sure it'll be awesome, Chub." He laughed, but Chubby can make the most mundane things seem like fun. Okay, I guess I feel a little jealous he's now with John Beverly the way Chub and I used to be, which is to say... inseparable. That was a few years back though and life goes on. At Stop & Shop I buy hamburger, two whole chickens, pork chops, baked beans, potatoes, romaine lettuce, a couple boxes of mac and cheese, Hamburger Helper for emergencies, plus other odds and ends. Total bill: $79.67. Robby gave me two twenties before I
left the apartment for his share of the cost. Starting with the next shopping trip we'll save the receipts so that every couple of weeks we can even out the cost of our grocery purchases.
Back at the apartment after my uneventful shopping trip, I freeze the grocery items that need freezing and put the rest in the refrigerator or our small pantry, then fix our dinner. Robby's on the couch reading a book by John Sandford. It's one of Sandford's 'Prey' series. I make meatballs and we have spaghetti and meatballs, plus a salad and iced tea for dinner. After Robby and I clean up the kitchen we organize our backpacks for tomorrow as an
old 'Counting Crows' CD plays in the background. A little later we do out bathroom before-bed ritual, then get in bed wearing boxer shorts just after
nine o'clock. Propped-up on pillows we watch a classic movie on cable TV; It's one of our favorite movies even though it was made before I was born.
It's called, 'A Few Good Men', starring Jack Nicholson and Tom Cruise. We both shout out, "YOU CAN"T HANDLE THE TRUTH!!" along with Jack Nicholson at that part of the movie. We've seen it three or four times before tonight.
I click off the movie shortly after they're dragging Jack Nicholson away in the courtroom. After turning out the lights, I get wrapped up in Robby's arms and sigh. We snuggling against each other until we're both comfortable, then lie silently together in the dark. It's so fucking nice going to bed like this. Robby's lazily dragging a finger through the hair before turning his head and kissing my cheek, murmuring , "I love you." We begin our lover's make-out slowly, arousal and desire increasing with each deep kiss.
Then I do some delicious oral sex for Robby and that leads seamlessly into anal sex. Tonight we do it in a couple of different positions; the first one bringing both of us to the edge of climax before Robby slows down, stops; and without awkwardness, like we've choreographed it, we move into another position. Robby's hard throbbing boner slides up my ass again with us murmuring sounds of exquisite sexual pleasure. The slow thrusting with me now on my back and Robby between my legs on his knees that he's spread out on the mattress. He's fucking me while we're doing some more deep kissing.
Between the kisses we're both making soft moaning sounds. I'm feeling such exquisite pleasure it brings tears to my eyes. His scent, the feel of his hard body and his sweet lips kissing mine goes on and on until my orgasm is on the
brink of climax again; an intense sexual sensation that borders on pain.
Unable to hold it back any longer the deliciously overwhelming sensations reach the highest pinnacle of sexual pleasure, followed by an earth shattering climax leaving me shaking and gasping for breath, and then another peak of pleasure when Robby, his body stiff, humps against my buttocks makes a desperate whining sound and filling me up with his seed. Creamy warm cum inside my rectum as my shoulders shudder and we clutch each other, gasping as our climaxes sizzle and then fade away leaving us limp in each other's arms. Now it's back to tender hugging and little kisses with sighs of contentment and feelings of a true love of a lifetime. We haven't spoken a word for twenty minutes and now lie here very contented being us.
A whispered, "I love you so much," and we snuggle again, trying to avoid the wet cum spots on the sheet while awaiting sleep. Another sigh from me and as often happens after making this kind of love with Robby I wonder about having sex with anyone else. Nights like tonight are a window into my future that I can see clearer and clearer as time goes by. It's times like this that clarify and emphasize Robby and I were meant for each other. When married the only sex I'll have is with Robby, and even though earlier today I had really hot sub/dom sex with Ryan the thought of being monogamist in married life doesn't scare me at all. It'll make our sex that much better, that much more important. For now though it's like I told Robby earlier: any side-sex that either of us has prior to our future monogamist married life is frivolous and meaningless when compared to our love-making together. No matter how hot my climaxes are with anyone else, and they're often significantly hot, they're still missing the ingredient that gives meaning to the sex act... love. Hell, climaxes felt good jerking off when I was thirteen, and better yet when I climaxed with a partner, even fat Carl, then better yet when having sex with Willie who I really liked, and then Ryan's sub/dom sex resulting in hotter climaxes than ever, but nothing is as satisfying or as special as sex with my true love. Robby and me making love together renders any other sex we may have as merely pleasant youthful endeavors, but in the end meaningless. Robby understands this as well as I do and if others can't, it's because they don't have a love like ours.
After a dreamless night's sleep we awake to Wednesday morning and the beginning of our junior year of college; that starts right now. Being juniors we're a lot more clued-in on how to set up our course schedule. For instance, on Mondays our first class isn't until one o'clock in the afternoon.
That's because weekends can sometime be beer-intensive with late nights, so sleeping-in Monday mornings is often more than a luxury; it's a necessity.
For Friday's we tried to avoid scheduling any class, but that didn't work out so we at least scheduled the class first thing in the morning and our only one of the day. It's almost like a three day weekend every week once that class is over. Friday's class is the only one Robby and I don't have together; it's the class I have with Ryan. Today, however, is the middle of the week. Our Wednesday and Thursday schedules are our busiest of the week with three classes; two in the morning and then the afternoon one, and the afternoon one is an hour and fifty minute class in Middleton's lecture hall.
That's what we'll deal with today and consequently we're up and at 'em at eight o'clock this morning. Robby's all business of course. A kiss good morning, without much chatter. Then, while he takes a quick shower I make us mugs of coffees and fried egg sandwiches on toast with cheese and ketchup. I eat mine while making his and then bring his into the bedroom. He's out of the shower, mumbling, "Thanks, babe, that looks good." He eats his breakfast while getting dressed as I'm showering. Then dressed, we're out of the apartment by eight-thirty with our backpacks over our shoulders.
Robby drives to our first class and we're standing outside the building ten minutes early making small talk with a few guys we know from previous years. Inside the building I follow Robby to the front of the room rolling my eyes but resigned to being labeled a front row brown-nosier. For this course, Management Supply Chain, we've got a short stocky woman professor with a huge ass and a clear speaking voice. She's dressed in a bright orange sweater with a gray skirt. Her sweater will keep me awake for sure. She told us at orientation that note-taking is important if we expect to do well on the midterm and final exams. Textbooks out, notepad and pen ready, the class begins. This is a sixty minutes class, three times per week. The hours spent in class at college are less than we endured in high school, but there's more work and study requirements on our own after classes. Frankly I think college is easier than high school even though the subject matter is harder. Working through the study materials alongside Robby makes it easier; two heads are better than one and working together makes the time pass more quickly than sitting at my desk alone. I can't write down everything the professor says, so I cleverly don't write anything when Robby's taking notes, then take my notes when he's not taking his. Together we should have what we need. Luckily Professor McGovern likes telling us what a big shot she was as part of management at Pepsi Cola, which I'm pretty sure won't be on the test, so only about half the class requires either Robby or me taking notes.
After class, having a smoke, Robby says, "I saw what you were doing in class and I think it's brilliant. If I'm taking notes you don't need to, but then you take notes when I'm not. Good plan; let's do that with all three courses." I nod, then ask, "What'd you think of McGovern?" He shrugs, "She's tedious at times, but then so is the material. Just a course to get a good grade in and muddle through somehow." We have an hour to kill so we do it in the quad having a Coke talking to a black guy Robby knows from the baseball team. His name is Lawyer Ross and he's a rare one... a cute senior. By senior year most guys have lost whatever cuteness they had during their teen-years, leaving it behind for their young-adult look that's often disappointing. Not so with Lawyer though. Looking at Lawyer's bushy afro-like hairdo I'm thinking I'd really like to have a chance to give him a haircut someday. In Marietta one of the guys on the work crew was Sam Workman and I gave him and his brothers haircuts a couple of times. It seems, delicately put, their mother had relations with a few different men one of whom was a black dude because his brother, Sly, definitely had a black daddy, His hair was similar to Lawyer's although Sly's brothers mostly had blond hair. Anyway, Lawyer has milk-chocolate-colored skin with mostly European facial features and a very sweet manner with an awesome grin, and he does a lot of grinning. I can tell he knows how attractive he is by the way he lifts his eyebrows and glances at me, full of confidence, but in a good way, not arrogantly.
The eye contact we make indicates a chance he might be bisexual or even gay. I say that because he maintains eye contact longer then most guys.
Lawyer's tall and plays outfield for the team. He's an animated conversationalist, and a funny one too. I'd surely like to get to know him better, but can't imagine how I'd go about doing that.
We leave Lawyer in the Quad, giving ourselves plenty of time to walk to second class. It's titled 'Niche Marketing (Intermediate)' and supposedly has an easy grading professor in the person of, Professor D'Angelo. I hope she's an easy grader because the woman speaks with a Middle Eastern accent that I find hard to follow. Maybe others do as well which is why she needs to be an easy grader. It wouldn't look too good for her if all her students barely pass her course. She has gray hair in a bun and is probably past sixty years old. We're in the front row again so I watch her closely and shortly get the sense that Professor D'Angelo is a very nice person. Not sure why exactly, but she just seems nice. Her accent isn't as pronounced as I thought it was during orientation, and she makes the subject matter interesting. Good thing too because this is a seventy-five minute class, also three days a week. Robby and I use our note-taking method, although neither of us take as many notes as we did during the first class. By the end of class, no matter that Professor D'Angelo is a nice woman, I'm ready to get the hell out of here. Getting back in the swing of sitting in classrooms takes some getting used to all over again. In a couple of weeks we'll be numb to it and it'll be easier to deal with.
Lunch is the next matter of business so Robby and I wear our backpacks across campus to where the pickup's parked and drive to a Friendly's restaurant for lunch. It's a little past noon so Friendly's is not real crowded yet, and we get seated and served pretty quickly. While we eat BLT sandwiches with glasses of iced tea we talk about buying cold cuts and rolls for lunches in the apartment. We can save money eating there and be more comfortable too. Plus, as Robby says, "Maybe have a noon-er once in a while." I'm very pleased with how Robby's embracing the sexual side of our relationship. Not that I'm especially surprised though because, as I've thought many times before, I'm not the only oversexed one in our love affair. Every day I'm realizing the benefits of us sharing our apartment exclusively, and while I miss seeing as much of Chubby as I did the past two years, there's the benefits of an available spot for sex anytime we feel like it beings it's just the two of us in the apartment.
Back on campus, smoking a cigarette, I'm noticing it's getting chillier day by day as it gets closer to October and consequently some guys are breaking out hoodie sweatshirts. It used to be a highlight for me in high school seeing a cute guy wearing a hoodie because it outlines his face and just strikes me as sexy and cool-looking. As I've mentioned before, here at college many guys who were cute in high school have unfortunately lost it with age and therefore the hoodie time of year has lost a lot of it's luster for me here at Merrimack. Sure, I could hang-out at North Andover High and look
at the cute teenage guys in hoodies; that's if I was a pervert, which I'm not. No more high school for me. Of course there are exceptions to the rule and not every guy loses his cuteness into his twenties; Lawyer Ross for example, so I still glance at guys in hoodies looking for the exceptions.
Emphasis on the word 'glance' because if a guy catches me looking at him it's one of those, 'What the fuck you looking at?' situations. I assume at some age we'll all get over our paranoia of being looked at and stop seeing it as a challenge to our manhood.
The afternoon class, our last one of the day, is in a lecture hall with rows of seats sloping down to the professor at the floor below. This is a Market Research course with Professor James Peters, who is a youngish looking guy and quite good looking. Actually he looks our age, but is actually twenty-nine years old according to him. I verified that by reading about him online. Although he's still single, during orientation I didn't notice any gay vibes coming from him and, even if I did, so what? It'd be interesting though if he were gay. I've probably had a gay teacher or two during my schooling through the years, but didn't realize it. In high school there aren't that many male teachers and even less in middle school, then none in elementary school. In college I expected mostly male professors, but that's not the case here at Merrimack. It's been about fifty/fifty, male/female professors so far in the courses I've taken.
The afternoon Market Research class is the one Danny Monday has with Robby
and me. I have to smile to myself at the argument Danny gives Robby about where to sit in the lecture hall. Robby prevails even though Danny's like, "Dylan, do you like sitting in front?" I go, "Nope," but we both follow Robby down to the third row. Nobody is sitting in rows one or two, so we're effectively in the first row. There are at least a hundred and twenty-five students in this class, all of them behind us so I can't do any ogling of hot guys, that's if there are any in this class.
Professor Peters, or James as I like to think of him, looks really good up this close, so there's at least that benefit of sitting in front. He has that creamy pale skin that always looks clean and new. Big green eyes that he opens wide when he's telling us something he thinks is amazing. Jimbo really likes his subject matter, and he likes student participation. He'll state a premise and ask for a volunteer to give an example. When we all look at each other without volunteering he's not deterred; he looks on his list of student's names and call out, "Raymond Winters, where are you?" We look back, glad he didn't call our name. A guy lifts his hand, saying, "I didn't get that far in the text yet." Everyone laughs including Jimbo, who says, "I'm merely giving you an example of how I teach. Tomorrow, Mr. Winters, and all of the rest of you, please read the first thirty-five pages in your text so when I call on you you'll have something informed to offer." He put a little steel in the last words so I'm disappointed in James. He's not going to turn out to be a good-looking professor prick, I hope. Please, James, don't be a hard-ass professor who takes himself and the subject material too seriously! Chill, you good looking dude.
It remains to be seen if James goes off the deep end, but his energy and enthusiasm for the material makes the longish class pass quicker than I expected. We even had two or three good laughs thanks to Jimbo's sense of humor. He also sprinkles in enough curse words so, I assume, he feels we'll relate to him better. After class Danny asks Robby, "Are you going to sit down there every class, Rob?" Robby nods his head and Danny shrugs, resigned to the seating arrangement. It's obvious who runs their show; that's if they even have a 'show' for Robby to 'run'. Outside the building, done classes for the day at two-fifteen, Robby says to me, "Danny and I need to round-up our freshman and show them where everything is and what's expected of them."
I'm a little startled every time Robby says the name 'Danny', meaning Danny Monday, but earlier this summer the name 'Danny' meant something different to me.
Danny says, "Yeah, Rob, but let's throw a ball around a little too, and maybe even get some batting practice in the batting cage. We need to have our freshman ready to join in with fall practice starting Monday." Robby mutters, "Yeah, the coach can be a prick if the freshmen screw up, and he'll blame us, not them." Then he asks, "What are you gonna do, Dylan?" I shrug, "I'll come down with you guys and sit in the stands watching for a while, then maybe see if anyone's at the Quad. Play it by ear I guess." He pats my back, "We'll get in a routine soon enough, babe. Fall practice only lasts three weeks, then I'll be hanging-out with you full time." So obviously those two have got their shit together and it's funny, but I seriously don't feel jealous of Robby's and Danny's time together. It's kinda cool that Danny's like me in that we both let Robby be the alpha dog. So I'm not the only one who looks up to Rob Dickers.
It's a ten minute walk past the hockey rink to the baseball park that's a pretty little thing with a four foot brick wall around the perimeter. There
are two entrances and, for games, you need a ticket to get in although they never have big crowds for baseball games. Hockey is the primary sport at Merrimack with the hockey team very competitive among NCAA Division II colleges and universities. Merrimack is too small for a Division I sports program. Robby and Danny go in the 'Team Personnel Only' entrance past someone at the door verifying they're baseball personnel. I'm not of course, so I wander in through the spectator entrance and surprisingly there are a few other students sitting in the stands watching the players on the field practicing. No coaches allowed until Monday. There are rules about that; not that I know what they are. I sit halfway up the bleachers wishing I'd worn a hoodie myself. The sun is already beginning to fade and after daylight saving
time and the clock is turned back an hour it'll be dark by four-thirty.
Gruesome few months after that, except I suppose it's favorable for the vampires among us. I can hear chippy comments from the ball players and laughter as they show off their exceptional eye-hand coordination; a gift they were born with, and therefore take it for granted.
I don't see Robby for half an hour and then he comes out with Danny, Golden, and a big kid, who's almost certainly Danny's freshman responsibility.
Danny claims the guy's an asshole. Ha ha, and he looks like an asshole too.
He has a swarthy complexion and average facial features but with long black hair; female length to his shoulders. Big shoulders and he's like four inches taller than Danny, so the guy's about six foot-three. He looks more like a football player than a baseball player. The four of them jog around the parameter of the outfield twice, then take a break and walk back to the infield getting bottles of water. I watch some sort of confrontation between the big guy and his mentor, Danny. Robby steps in between them and he must have said something funny because all three of them laugh. Five minutes later they're doing wind sprints and they keep it up for ten minutes before resting again, this time in the dugout where I can't see them. I'm checking out the players on the field, one by one, concluding that Robby and Danny are the best looking guys on the team. Golden's okay except for his fucked-up chin, and he's on the short side too. There's a slim kid who I don't recall from last year's team. He's fielding grounders at third base and has potential to be the third cute guy on the team. He's got his baseball cap on of course, but the hair on the sides and back of his head is very short and looks like it's pale red from here. Good body and he has a big smile obviously loving what he's doing and, I don't know, I can't see his face clearly but he strikes me as maybe being cute. I know one thing; he has cannon for an arm throwing from third to first across the diamond. Wow! Amazing someone so slim has a arm like that.
Moving my seat to get closer to the third baseman, only to see him move to shortstop now. Dammit! Turning my attention to the batter's box I'm watching guys hitting pitched balls from a pitching machine in the batting cage.
Jeez, they make it look so easy when I know that's it isn't; not when balls come out that fast from the machine. I hear rustling and footsteps on the bleacher seats behind me and then Frankie's on one side of me and Beth's on the other, both putting their arm through mine on either side of me. They hug my arm leaning against me, saying, "Guess who?" Big smiles on the girls who, as usual, are full of energy. They seem to be shimmering even when stationary. Bubbling energy! I go, "Good afternoon, fan club. Hey, where's your sign?" Frankie looks pouty, saying, "Rob said not to bring one, and anyway we should wait for the real games next spring where there'll be more fans in the stands. That's when we'll have our fan club sign." Beth asks, "Is Rob on the field?" and Frankie points to right field where Robby and Danny are loosening up their throwing arms playing catch with their freshmen. I assume Robby and Golden are waiting for their turn to use the infield.
Danny's playing the outfield this year and I'm guessing the large freshman he's mentoring is probably an outfielder too.
The girls talk Red Sox baseball with me and it turns out they know baseball like real fans of the game know baseball' they're not frauds. They know their stuff and I learn Frankie's dad has had four season tickets along the first base line at Fenway Park. They're complimentary seats bought through her father's cleaning company. The same seats for almost twenty- years now.
That gets my attention naturally. I've never sat in ground level box seats at Fenway. I've been in what they 'call' box seats, but the seats were across the aisle from ground level boxes and half way up the first section of seats. They're actually grandstand seats called box seats so the Red Sox can charge more for them. If Robby stays friends with Francesca we could be sitting in those seats this coming summer. That would be cool, and if the girls would let go of my arms I could feel cool myself. Thinking about it, it makes sense that Rob and I make friends with these girls. I mean, after all we should have some female friends; box seats or not. Well, obviously, it's better with the box seats and free ones too! I ask the girls, "Could I get you girls a soda or something?" The food stations aren't operating but there are vending machines. Instead of answering me, Beth takes Ryan's Merrimack baseball cap from my head and puts it on, saying, "Nothing for me, Dylan, but can I wear your hat?" I look out at the diamond where Robby's fielding grounders and see he has a hat on, although not his hat because Frankie's wearing it. I do a fake cough, mumbling, "Um, let me buy you a hat, Beth, that one has sentimental value for me." She goes, "No, I'm wearing this one." She pushes her ponytail through the opening in the back where the adjustable band is. I reach for it and she goes, "NO! Don't be like that, Dylan." Hmmm, what a bitch! And I thought they weren't annoying. Well, I'm not getting into a wrestling match with her, and then there are box seats to consider, but I want that fucking hat back before I leave. I rub my nose, muttering, "I want the fucking hat back before you leave." She hugs my arm tighter, saying, "Of course, sweetie." The hat won't be the same now though. It was only Ryan and me who wore it until now. The mystique of the hat is kinda ruined with Beth wearing it. Fucking girls, ya know? Even with the hat fiasco Frankie gets me laughing with her comments about each player on the field, and she knows more then half of the players by name. She's the funnier of the two, but Beth pretty funny herself and I soon forget about the hat and invite them to have dinner with Robby and me tonight at the apartment. Oh my God, you'd think they just won a lottery, hugging me and getting all excited, saying how sweet I am and kissing me on the cheek. They both smell good, although it's an artificially enhanced scent with subtle perfumes. Different ones. Hmmm, I'll defrost one of the whole chickens in the microwave and have a chicken dinner with mashed potatoes and gravy. Then I'm wondering where these girls live. I mean, it has to be somewhere in Massachusetts if Francesca's father has Red Sox box seats. I ask and they tell me they live in Boston's Back Bay. They wanted to go to a suburban college to get away from the city, but still be close enough to go home on weekends whenever they felt like it. The Back Bay is an expensive part of Boston, so huh... interesting.
As the two girls chatter away I notice a couple of guys in the stands a few isles down who are looking back at the three of us. Two girls, attractive girls too, hanging on me talking across me. It's like those guys are thinking I'm this stud on campus with two babes hanging all over me. It makes me grin and snort out a laugh. One of the guys is pretty cute too. What an unusual situation, although not a bad one at all. I give the guys a nonchalant nod of my head and the cute one, wearing a hoodie, gives me a thumbs up.
Maintaining eye contact with him, I grin back and he sort of moves his head to the side to stare back at me. Whoa, he should have broken eye contact long ago the way nine guys out of ten would have done. Most guys break eye contact almost before they make it with another guy. Hoodie boy just might be the one in ten though. Giving him a smirk, I let my eyes drift away as Frankie says to me, "You naughty boy, Dylan. I'm telling Rob you're flirting with that guy." I ask, "Do you think that guy's cute?" and she brazenly gawks directly at the guy, who turns away and says something to the friend he's with. That guy turns to look at Frankie for a second, then gives her the finger. Frankie looks at me, saying, "That asshole flashed me the bird." I mutter, Yeah, I saw that, but what about the other guy?" She hugs my arm tighter, saying, "Well yeah, of course he's cute. He's cute, and he's hot.
He's interested in you though, not Beth or me so it looks like he's on your team." Beth's like, "Which guy?" and they both look at the hoodie cutie and agree he's probably gay. When I look over again the two guys are walking down the bleachers on their way out. It's interesting to hear girls confirm a guy's cuteness though. He's about Ryan's size, meaning on the small side, and actually looks too young to even be a freshman. He might be a high school student sitting with his older brother, who's maybe a Merrimack freshman. In any case they're gone. Huh. But we connected somehow; I could feel it.
Maybe he could be my 'Wildwood Charlie' here at college. Ha ha, wouldn't that be something...
to be continued... Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com
donnymumford@outlook.com
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Hoping some readers may be interested, there are books of mine published and available on Amazon.com. Anyone who has Kindle can download them for next to nothing. The books are usually around ten dollars. They are about a 19 year old gay boy (Oliver) who has a far different life than Dylan's. And there is a new book, 'Mike, his Bike and Me'. Please at least check them out by typing my name on Amazon.com. Information about the story in the books can be found in some detail there. Thank you.
Donny Mumford
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