Disclaimer:
The following piece of fiction contains explicit descriptions of sexual acts between consenting adult males aged over the age of 18. Please do not read further if the subject matter might offend you. If you are aged under 18 (or 21 if that is the law in your state or country) please leave this site without reading further.
Note from Author:
This part of the story is told by Barbara-Ann. I thought it might be nice to hear some of the events of chapter 9 from her point of view. Also, I thought it would be interesting to see how a girl perceives Anthony at this time of the story. You can also read this part of the story (and more besides!) from the point of view of Anthony or Brad -- just go back to the main `Geeks Get Hot' folder.
Geeks Get Hot (part 9) -- Barbara-Ann
I hurried up the stairs two at a time, late as usual for my class. My bag banged against the side of my leg as I raced down the corridor, feeling myself beginning to get out of breath. Somehow, however early I left the house, I always ended up being late for class. Must just be one of my bad points. I paused outside the door to the lecture hall to get my breath back and attempt to straighten my hair up. Luckily, the entrance to this room was at the back, so I could creep down the aisle to my seat without having to see the whole room staring at me.
I pushed the door open and quietly closed it behind me so it didn't bang. Then I made my way down the aisle and slid into the empty seat my friend Anthony had been saving for me. If Professor Babworth had noticed my late arrival, he hadn't made it obvious. Hadn't even paused for breath in fact.
"Did I miss much?" I whispered to Anthony.
"Just the usual" he replied. "A reminder about which exercises to complete for this week's assignment. But you'd better hurry up and get your pen out, he seems to have set his writing hand to `turbo-speed' today, and you know what he's like about wiping the board clean when it gets full up."
"Don't remind me" I groaned. This particular math professor was notorious for wiping the chalkboard clean of the equations he'd written for us to copy down before any of us had finished copying them. I started scribbling away, and had soon caught up.
I glanced across at Anthony. He was caught up in the lecture, trying his best to follow what Professor Babworth was saying, occasionally pausing from his note-taking to push his glasses further up his nose. As usual, a patch of his brown hair was sticking up at the back of his head. I resisted the temptation to try and flatten it for him -- I knew from experience there was little point, it would just stick itself up again!
I knew Anthony hadn't gotten close to many people in the math class. Once the novelty of his being from England had worn off, most people had ended up regarding him as just another geek. He was pretty shy which some people interpreted as being unfriendly, and he has this annoying habit of correcting people who say his name wrong. Okay, that's fair enough, but if it's the first thing he's ever said to you, it doesn't endear you to him, or encourage you to speak to him again. It's a shame really, as if you make the effort to get to know him like I have, he's a really great guy. Kind and sweet and funny and...to be honest, the sort of guy my parents would love me to bring home and introduce as my future husband.
As if that's ever going to happen!
I thought back to the first time I'd met him, in the first math class of the semester. I'd practically fallen through the door, late as usual, and thrown myself into the first empty seat I'd seen. I hadn't even noticed the thin, brown-haired bespectacled guy who'd been sitting quietly in the next seat, I'd been so busy trying to find a clean sheet of paper and something to write with, until I felt a tap on my shoulder.
"Um excuse me" he'd said in his cute English accent. "I think you dropped your um..." and then he'd tailed off and blushed the deepest red I've ever seen a person go as he realised what he was holding in his hand to give back to me, and I felt my own cheeks getting a bit hot as I saw what it was, and then I started to laugh a little, and he stared at me for a bit and then I took it from him and said something like "shit, if that fell out from behind my ear then I hate to think where I've put my pen for safekeeping!", and then he'd started shaking with laughter too, and in the end I laughed so hard I'd almost wet myself. So, yes, we met and bonded over a dropped tampon and had been firm friends ever since.
Professor Babworth's voice dragged me out of my thoughts, as he announced that our next class had been cancelled.
"Result!" I whispered to Anthony.
"Yes, apart from the assignments he's still given us" he replied.
We stood up with the rest of the class and made our way out of the room.
"So what do you plan to do with your unexpected spare two hours?" I asked Anthony as we left the building and walked down the steps outside.
He made some sort of sarcastic comment, so I gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder and told him to be serious.
"Well I suppose I'll just head back to my room and make a start on that calculus assignment."
"Wow" I said, "of all the possible things you could do, you definitely chose the best!"
"Well what exciting thing are you planning to do?" he retorted.
"It just so happens Mr. Smith, I took delivery of the box-set of the latest season of `Desperate Housewives' this morning, so I'll be watching that" I told him. This was true, in fact I could hardly wait to get started watching it. I had a bit of a crush on Eva Longoria. I think Anthony knew that. I was pretty sure he'd seen I had a picture of her modelling lingerie as my cellphone screensaver. I never shouted my sexuality from the rooftops or anything, but most people came to the correct conclusion without me having to say anything.
"Unless you'd rather come over to my room and fuck me. That might be even more fun than watching `Desperate Housewives'. It's been a while and I'm seriously horny today!"
I'd meant it as a sarcastic comment, a throwaway joke that we'd both laugh at the ridiculousness of. Except Anthony didn't look like he was about to laugh at it. In fact he looked...panic-stricken, there is no other word that would describe his expression better. He opened and shut his mouth a few times, and made some sort of stuttering sounds.
He didn't actually think I was being serious did he?!
He was blushing now, and had lowered his eyes to the floor. He was obviously uncomfortable about something. Shit! Maybe he hadn't realised it had been a joke. Maybe he was trying to find the politest way to turn me down he could think of. I decided to put him out of his awkwardness and tell him straight that I was joking.
"Relax Anthony, I'm not serious."
Was that a look of relief that had passed across his face? Well that's just charming! I know I'm not a supermodel, but I'm not completely hideous, and as far as I knew, Anthony didn't get many offers of sex handed to him on a plate, even if mine had been in jest. If I'd been the kind of girl to take offense, I probably would have done. Luckily though, I'm not.
However, if he thought my comment had been genuine, that must also mean he thought I was straight. I decided he ought to know I wasn't. I felt pretty confident he wouldn't flip and disown me. He seemed like a pretty openminded kind of a guy, and they must have lesbians in England too, so I can't be the only gay person he's ever met.
"I'm a lesbian. You'd have to grow a pair of tits for me to want to fuck you" I said. I decided he was the sort of person that needed these things spelling out.
"Oh... OH!" He said, opening his eyes wide, a look of realization flooding his face.
"I thought you knew that," I said "sorry if you didn't. I didn't mean to embarrass you. And no, next time I have someone over, you can't come watch!"
I thought I'd better get that one in first before he did. It was generally the next thing guys said to me when they found out. Anthony wasn't saying much though, and I wondered if my revelation had freaked him out. I hoped not, I really liked having him as a friend. Even if he was too dumb to realise I was into girls.
Eventually, the conversation got back flowing between us, and we even shared a few more sarcastic jokes between the two of us before we went our separate ways, me to the house I shared and him back to the dorms.
As I walked home, I replayed the incident in my head. He had definitely not been comfortable when he thought I was propositioning him. At the time I thought it was just because I wasn't his type or whatever, but if that had been the case, the sort of person he was, he'd have just made a wisecrack about it and we'd have moved on to talk about something else. No, there was definitely more to it than that. The way he'd paled and then blushed, and stumbled over his words, it was as if he'd been terrified about something.
I tried to think if there'd ever been a time when he'd told me the types of girls he was into, and I realised he hadn't ever spoken about it. It's funny, but I couldn't remember him ever eyeing up any girls either, now I came to think about it. I remembered a time we'd been sitting in the cafeteria eating and there'd been a table of seriously beautiful girls opposite us. I had hardly been able to keep my eyes off of them, but he hadn't even glanced in their direction. He did quite often glance over at the table where the male swim team ate together though.
Interesting...
My mind continued to work as I walked home. I'd always considered myself to have a pretty accurate Gaydar, and Anthony had never set it off bleeping, but the more I thought about it, the more little things there were that came to my mind that might suggest that Anthony would never share my appreciation for Eva Longoria, or any other woman for that matter. Nothing obvious, in fact the cues were so subtle, part of me wasn't sure if I was imagining something that wasn't there.
I suddenly felt like I had to know for definite whether he was gay or not, and took out my cell and scrolled through to find his number to call. Then I stopped myself. Maybe he wasn't comfortable with himself yet. Not everybody accepted their sexuality as readily as I had when I'd first realised I was attracted to the same sex.
I put my cell away. If he was gay, I felt sure he would tell me in his own time, especially now he knew I was too. If he didn't, then that was his business. Whatever he did, I would be there for him, because that's what friends are for.