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Being More Social

“Adam can’t talk to girls, he must like men,” “Adam still wears tighty-whities,” “Adam doesn’t like looking at porn,” crap like that. I knew their true reason for picking on me – I was just another geeky, socially awkward kid who had a tendency to talk in a way considered too ‘proper’ for middle school, and an inability to talk to girls. The ‘proper’ talk was how my parents raised me. The inability to talk to girls, well, that was just a gift from God. Adam's Story>>>>>

Fredrick_Udele · แฟนตาซี
เรตติ้งไม่พอ
66 Chs

CHAPTER 7

Over the weekend, I texted Nicole whenever I wasn't doing homework. It's not like there was much else to do, but I wasn't complaining, especially since she always seemed all too happy to answer. In the back of my mind, I wondered if she was lonely too.

I could tell she wasn't dainty and delicate when I met her, but over the weekend I learned that she was definitely a 'One of the Guys' type. She didn't really care for stereotypical girl things – she was perfectly fine staying home playing video games, if she didn't have homework to do. She took school very seriously, since she had two older brothers, and one was a high school dropout who never really got anywhere in life. She didn't really want to talk about him, so I left that subject alone.

Her being serious about her education was where she got her anal tendencies about grammar, but she also loved the other side of school. She tried to get in as many clubs as possible and get involved, and she told me she was even thinking of trying out for the school play this year. Naturally, though, her one love was photography. She made no point of hiding her excitement when she told me that she wanted to be a cinematographer when she got out of high school. Seeing her all giddy like that, even over text, was cute, which kind of warmed my heart. When I met her, she was bold, kind of easy, and that's all I knew. Now she had flaws and strengths, and had her own distinct personality, which I liked. I felt like I was more than just a fuck buddy to her. I was becoming her friend.

Did I like her though? I had no clue. I couldn't feel it in my head, but in my heart I knew there was a clear difference between May and Nicole to me. Nicole was great to talk to, and less shy than a kitten on Ritalin. Not to mention she was the one girl whom I couldn't actually stop staring at, chest-wise, and in response she lets me not only see them, but play with them. You don't meet a girl like that everyday.

Compared to Nicole, I actually knew very little about May. But that's what made her so much more… interesting to me No, more than that, captivating. Nicole literally let me see her half-naked within 30 minutes of meeting me. May seemed like this innocent, precious flower that I just wanted to admire, and possibly hold. And I wanted to make her happy, because she made me feel happy, just by standing there, or talking to me with that angelic voice. Nicole frankly just couldn't really do that to me, at least not yet.

Only time could tell what'll happen, I thought to myself as I locked those thoughts away. I shouldn't get too ahead of myself. Whatever the future holds, I may not be ready for it, but it sure is better sitting inside during middle school recess wishing I was someone else.

***

When Monday morning rolled around, the thing that woke me up was not my alarm clock but the buzz of my phone. I don't get how one week, I could sleep through a blaring alarm and the next, be woken up by a faint buzzing, but there you go.

Still half-asleep, I lazily took my phone to see why it woke me up. As if I should have expected anything else, it was Nicole. She had sent me a picture of her cheerfully waving, fully clothed (although needless to say, she looked fantastic in a button-up vest) with the caption Morning! Want a ride?

I dismissed the possibility of there being a double entendre and replied, Sure! When do you want me to be ready? Over the weekend, she managed to make me use 'you' instead of 'u.' I figured it was best not to argue with her. I couldn't imagine it, but seeing her irritated and forceful (more so than she naturally was) was a bone-chilling thought.

7:30. Seven freaking thirty? I glanced at the clock. It was 7:00, sharp. I groaned and shifted my head on the pillow, my body fighting with the idea of getting out of bed before I absolutely needed to, when my phone buzzed again.

Don't groan at me, mister. If you want rides, get used to the fact that I'm a morning person. Oooookay, so now she was psychic too. Come to think of it, in the picture she sent me you could clearly see it was morning by the lighting, but she seemed fully awake. Well, good for her, but I absolutely hated mornings. If it weren't for school, I probably wouldn't ever witness the world before noon.

Groaning all the way, I managed to pull myself out of bed and started to scavenge around my room, looking for a shirt. Good thing I took my showers at night, or my morning routine would be a nightmare.

Fully clothed, I slunk down the stairs and entered the kitchen to see my mother and father at the dinner table, sipping away at their morning coffee.

Dad looked up from the paper he was reading on the table. "He lives!" he exclaimed with fake fright. "My God, Marcia, he lives!"

Mom just smiled patiently at him, something mom generally did with dad's jokes.

"It must be an emergency." dad said, putting down his coffee cup. "Why's Dracula up at this hour?"

"Oh now Timothy, stop it." Mom scolded him. "Maybe he's just becoming more responsible for himself!" she nodded at me approvingly.

Well, now I feel bad. Thanks, mom. "Actually, a fellow student offered to give me a ride to school today. I couldn't say no, being the social kind of guy I am." I winked at mom with that last comment.

"Oh." dad said, at a loss for words. That wasn't something I got to see often, so I savored the moment and felt awkward at the same time. "Well, uh… Alrighty then!"

He looked like he was going to say something else, but no words were coming out of his mouth. Nevertheless, I kept up my expectant gaze at him. "Yeah?" I finally asked him ambiguously.

"I was trying to come up with a joke for that one, but nothing's coming to me. Now get yourself some breakfast, when's he going to be here?"

I figured it was best to just ignore correcting him for now. If my parents knew I was being offered rides to school from a girl, they might get the wrong impression. Or the right one.

"7:30." I replied, getting myself some milk and an apple from the fridge. Are people even supposed to keep apples in fridges? Leave it to my dad…

As I left the kitchen to brush my teeth, I heard my dad talking to my mom behind me. "No, wait, I've got one. What's the name of that car from Knight Rider? You know, the talking one."

"The joke's over, Tim." mom told him.

***

By the time I was all ready and was out the door, Nicole was already there, sitting in my driveway in her Ford Focus (which was black, of course). I sheepishly waved to her as soon as she saw me, and hopped in the car.

"Sorry." I started. "How long have you been waiting here?"

"A millennium and a half." she said, rolling her eyes. Across the seats, she gave me an awkward hug. "I've been here for two minutes. Chill, alright?"

I only nodded. She gave a small smile, which faded quickly in concentration as she backed out of my driveway.

"So, ready to give your big speech today?" She asked casually as she drove, making small conversation. Oh, shit. I had completely forgotten about it. I felt a sudden twinge of 'panic pain' in my heart, and judging from Nicole's shift in expression I think the color drained from my face.

"Yyyyyup, you totally forgot about it, didn't you?" she asked, a sly smile forming on her lips. "You know, you were so busy talking to me all weekend anyways – you could have easily invited me over. I would have gladly helped you write one." Noticing my silence, she added, "Hell, even I remembered that you needed a speech."

I blinked twice. "You weren't with me in the office… How do you know I needed a speech?"

"Grade 11." she winked at me and turned back to the road. In my head, I was trying to formulate some kind of speech, some kind of introduction to a speech, some kind of SOMETHING, but absolutely nothing was coming to me.

"When are these speeches again?" I asked her.

"9:30." she replied, eyes forward. "Then right after the speech assembly is over, students vote."

God help me.