Part One

"Here, man. I think this can help. Look at the graph." he handed me the heavy material, "See the statistics on that thing? It's quite accurate, don't you think?"

Hmmm. . .The bastard's right. More than 80 percent of High School students have already lost their "Big V" even before Graduation. Both girls and boys. And the number increases every successive year. Which is really, really sad.

Well. . .not really.

This is one of the gajillion dillemas I have in my puny, little, simple life.

Come here. I have a secret to tell.

Come on, dipshit, closer!

Closer, so I can whisper in your ear.

That's it.


Now, listen.

Here's what I'm planning:

'I'm planning to lose my "Big V" before the ever-craved-for diploma lands in the palm of my hands.'

There, I finally said it.

You don't get it? Hmmm. . .Let me rephrase that.

'I plan to get fucked in the ass - by the biggest cock around - so hard my pussy would be gaping wide open for weeks and weeks to come!'

NOW, you get me?


Now, you know! It's a really great plan, isn't it? HAHA!

I looked at the elephant sitting across the table from me.

"Good job, Adams! You know. . .you're not as worthless as I thought you were." I remarked with a mocking smile, and went back to my writing.

"Watch that smart-ass mouth of yours, Fockins!" he snapped, "You wouldn't want MY not-so-worthless mouth to say things that you wouldn't like, would you?"

I looked up, startled, yet he was already busy writing his own draft. So, I dismissed it. It was kind of weird though. It was as if he knew something. As if he knows something. Whatever!

This has been the second

week that we've been hanging out in the Public Library. Well, we weren't really "hanging out". We were actually quite busy with our project, what with the school days fast approaching.

It has been a bit of a routine these past few days - we'd meet up, make some drafts, edit some lines, and do a serious lot of research.

When we were not meeting up and I was bored, I would visit his mom and bring her flowers and books and DVDs to keep her occuppied rather than being cooped-up in her bed in the hospital room with nothing to entertain her but the crappy TV.

We always had something to talk about. Great times, indeed!

Whenever Bruce was around, we would often connect and she would give me a wink and I would give her a knowing smile.

We had a secret, you see.

[WHAT SECRET? Seriously? I won't relate it to you again. It'd take too much space. And time. And energy. Just read Chapter 5 and you'll see.]

"Daniel?" I snapped back to the present.

"Huh?" was my very intellectual response.

"I'm hungry." Bruce said above a whisper, leaning closer so I could hear, "Let's go grab something to eat."

I leaned closer, too, and whispered back. "But we're not finished with the drafts yet. Let's get this done first, then we'll go get something to eat."

"The drafts can wait." he whined, "I don't know about you, but it's hard for me to think when my stomach's empty, you know."

Sigh. Stubborn. Stubborn. Stubborn. Yet also has a point. But still. Stubborn.

Come to think of it, I was a bit hungry, too, so I decided and said, "Yeah, sure. Let's go."

There was a burger joint a few blocks from the library [Bruce told me] so we trudged our way towards the store and ordered. I got myself the usual hamburger and fries and paired it with a diet Coke. Bruce got himself the same, but quadruple on the hamburger. Figures.

As I neared the table, Bruce walked ahead of me and got hold of my chair. Fuckin' dickhead! There were, what, 6 tables with 4 chairs around each surrounding us, and he just grabs mine like I wasn't even there? Fuckin' bullshark!

I tried to snap at him. . .but he just stood there staring at me. . .his icy-blue eyes piercing my deep brown ones. . .holding the chair out. . .for ME.


To say that I was shocked was an understatement. Bruce had to call me twice to get my attention.

Did he just do that for me? He just acted like a real gentleman. I didn't know what the people who saw would take from that. I didn't even know if anyone saw. But, hell, I just didn't care! All that I can think of is. . .WOW!

I muttered my thanks and got my tray on the table. Bruce just smiled (he wasn't grinning mockingly or cockily - he was just smiling my favorite smile) and sat across from me.

I sat down before my knees would give.

I heard my stomach rumble and I cleared my head for the task at hand. Concentrate, Danny. Look at all that food! You're supposed to be hungry, right?

"Bon app├ętite!" Bruce mumbled and started ravishing the poor pig.

I took my hamburger and removed the upper bun. I sprinkled my fries on top of the patty and showered it with lots of banana ketsup. Then, I replaced the bun and started munching. Mmmmm. . .just how I like it!

Bruce just gaped at me. "You're crazy, you know that, right?" he exclaimed. I ALWAYS get THAT reaction, "What's that supposed to taste like?" Bruce asked, grinning at me, a lettuce sticking out of a corner of his mouth.

FUCK! There goes that smile again. . .SNAP! Don't go there, Danny! Concentrate!

I composed myself and barked, "What! I call it Danny's BF." I retorted.

"Seriously?" he choked on a burger, "Danny's BF?" and chuckled heartily.

"Yep! Danny's Burger with Fries." and I took another bite. Bruce was now giggling. "Why are you laughing at me?" I demanded.

"Do I really need to answer that?" he chuckled more, "You're fucking hilarious! You eat a hamburger with fries in it. IN IT, Danny!"

"So?" I can't seem to find the humor.

"So, I think it's absurd." and he took a sip at his Coke.

"You're eating FOUR hamburgers, THAT'S absurd!"

He just ignored me, but I heard him mutter 'Danny's BF' before he finished his last piece, downed his Coke, stood up, and walked back, smiling, to the library.

I just giggled like a school girl and asked myself, "Was that Bruce Gregory Adams?"


As Christmas arrived, Bruce and I decided that we'll finish the project when school starts. It was okay for me. It was nearly done, anyway.

12 midnight on the 25th came and the three of us - me, my sister, and my mom - ate and chatted and did all of those Christmas shit. Every now and then, carollers would stop by and sing Justin Bieber's 'Mistletoe' [HEHEHE...Just joking!] and we would give them treats or money or something Christmasy.

All in all, it was Christmas. Plain, old, merry Christmas.

And to top it all off, I didn't receive an alarm clock this year! HA!

Thanks for the necklace, mom! I really love it. Honestly.



06:00 AM

I barely opened my eyes and realized that it was already Monday. The very first Monday of the year. And you know what that means?


Yep! That's what it means. My mom was back to being my personal alarm clock.

"DANNY! Wake up already!"

Sigh. Well, I'm glad the school days are back. At least the nights when I would pointlessly stay awake at night, waiting for Santa Clause to come and hand me my gift, was over. Joking.

At least I had something to occupy myself with now. SCHOOL SCHOOL SCHOOL.

"I'm awake, Mom!" I shouted back, then muttered "And I'm SO excited for school. Yay! Love school. Urgh. . ."


Walking to my class, I saw Keith leaning near my English room door.

"Hey, Keith!"

"Oh, Danny! Hey!"

And he gave me a warm, bear hug. Hmmm. . .He smells really good. . .feels really hard. . .and now he's pulling away. Damn!

"Dude, how was your holidays?" he queried.

"How was YOURS?" I implied, "Europe, right?"

"Haha. Yeah. It was great." he mumbled, and scanned the area behind me, "Snow and stockings and all that shit."

"And I'm fucking envious!" I momentarily glanced behind my back. What is he looking at? "Listen, we'll talk about your Europe escapades later, okay? Get ready to spill everything! Everything!"

"Uh. . .Yeah. . .Sure, Danny." he was still looking for something. . .or someone.

"Uh. . .Did you find it already?" I asked.


"What are you looking for?" I glanced behind my back again, "And what are you doing here?" I demanded, "Your class is in another building, right?"

"Uh. . .Yeah. . .I was just waiting for Sta-. . .Um. . .never mind. It's nothing. . .Uh. . .I'll just go. Talk to yah later!"

That was odd. Hmmm. . .Nevermind.

As I got in, I saw Bruce and I didn't hesitate to say 'Hey' and smile at him. He looked my way and flashed me a toothy grin before answering with another 'Hey' then gave me a wink. Now that's a nice improvement! Mighty nice!

Nancy Summers, who saw the odd exchange, shook her head violently. A did-that-just-fucking-happen look plastered all over her freckly face. Well, I couldn't blame her. It's not everyday that you see the Bully and the Bullied exchange smiles and greetings like they were best buddies or something. Her reaction was just priceless. I had the sudden urge to LOL.

"Ooookaaay. . .Welcome back to school!" Mrs. Elmers announced as she slumped her way through the door and towards her front desk, "I hope you had a splendid vacation, guys, 'cause as of. . ." she glanced at her watch and the school bell rang, ". . .right now. . .you're back in Hell!"

Groans of disappointment echoed around the walls of the classroom.

What a great way to start the class! What a great way to start the new year!

Bruce was busy poking Nancy Summers' ears with a pencil, while Mrs. Elmers had a discussion on Paraphrasing. I threw him a crumpled piece of paper and he took it and started reading my scribbles.



. . .OR AM I?

He looked up and gave me a quick nod of agreement and rolled his eyes. Well. . .I think he's not that changed yet.

So by quarter to 5 I headed towards the school library. And as I turned the corner, I got a little - or not so little - surprise.

"You're already here!" I gasped audibly.

"And you look surprised." he retorted with a smile.

I took a deep breath, "And you had a shower. Good."

"Fuck you, Danny." he giggled.

I shook my head and just went in. That afternoon was just like the few afternoons that Bruce and I were together over the holidays. It was routine work - researching, drafting, editing, and Bruce complaining and whining about a certain this and about a certain that. It was nerve-wrecking!

About two hours later, Bruce got really annoying with his 'Can I go now?'s and 'Are we done yet?'s, so I dismissed his whiney ass and we went our separate ways.

"Bye, Brucey!" I chimed as I got out of the doors.

"I told you not to call me that!" he spat, then looked around to make sure no one heard, "You're not my mom, Daniel!"

"Oh, whatever. Sorry. My bad." And I left.

"Um, Danny. Wait!"

I turned, ready for a fight. "Yeah?"

But when I saw him, he was looking at me funny. His expression was uncertain - it was as if he wants to smile, or laugh, or cry at the same time, or whatever. I wonder what he was thinking?

"Thank you." he breathed.

A pause. Someone coughed in the background. And I heard little churbells ring.

"What for?"

"Just. . .thank you, Danny." he smiled sheepishly and squeezed my shoulder, then left.

Well. . .I guess Mrs. Adams was right. I think he's not all baddy bad bad. We may have hope. Um. . .I mean he may have hope. [Nervous chuckle]


4th Week, January

"Let's get this over with, shall we?" Mrs. Elmers said boringly. "When I call your names, you step forward and claim your papers. I have checked and graded them already. So, long story short: Good Luck, I'm Sorry, and Congratulations!"

Peter Allison and Betty Reeves got a B-plus. Not bad. But I'm sure Betty had more to do with it than Pete.

Lopez and Johnson. Connery and Park. McNolan and King. Pair by pair we were called. There were the lucky ones who got B-minuses and B-pluses; some even got an A-minus. The dumbest from our class (sorry, but it's true) even got a C, though I suspect it was his partner's doing. Oh, well. . .

Every last one was called but us, until

"Mockins and Adams." called the squashed fly-eating frog. (That's how I describe Mrs. Elmers' horrid face. HEHEHE. . .)

I stood up and walked towards the front, Bruce strotting lazily at my heels. I don't literally mean heels as in heels. I don't wear one. I'm straight, remember? [Wink! Wink!]

I took our paper from Mrs. Elmers' clutch, but she held onto it tight.

"Uh-uh-uh. . .now, wait a minute. Stay and face your classmates first." she ushered, "Come on, Bruce. Stand beside Daniel. Come on, don't be shy."

"Yeah, Bruce. Don't be shy!" his friends teased, "Stand beside Daniel. Wrap him in your arms and sweep him off his feet." this caused a series of laughters and. . .well. . .more teasings. And I did what I always tend to do during these kinds of occasions. I blushed. Shit!

"See, Bruce, he's heating up just hearing about it!" more teasings, more laughter.

I glanced at Bruce. He was just smiling at me. Typical. The guy has no cares in the world. But he was smiling at me! URGH!

"Okay, okay. That's enough, Douglas. Or maybe you'd like to grab Mr. Stevens there and sweep him off his feet, too?" Mrs. Elmers intervened. That made everyone laugh. But it momentarily stopped, what with Mrs. Elmers staring daggers at everyone.

The remaining time was consumed by Mrs. Elmers' speech about the accuracy and the 'detailed' work that Bruce and I submitted. I knew we'd be making a great project, but I didn't expect a perfect A! That made all of our hardwork and daily 'dramas' worth it. Now, it's finally over! It's finally over. YEAH! It's finally over!

". . .for showing us the importance of Safe Consensual Sex! Good job, Mr. Mockins, Mr. Adams!" Mrs. Elmers announced, "Let us give these gentlemen another round of applause!"

Everybody was clapping their hands.

Without my approval, Bruce held my right hand and raised our entwined fingers for all to see. This made everyone clap more. Again, I didn't care what others might think about it. I was overwhelmed with joy. And that's what matters most. It was finally over. Our God damned English project is finally over.

It was a moment for me. All my - ahem, I mean our - hardwork and perseverance has finally paid off. All the nights that I sat on my desk and continued writing up until the early hours of the following day finally bore its fruits. It was a success. I was very happy I almost shed a tear.

But as the day ended, with my dick already limp, and hot, sticky cum splattered all over my torso, a single question was lurking inside my fifteen-year old brain -

What now?

*End of Chapter 7, Part One*


Nerdy Jock

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