All right, you may be wondering who the basis of "this guy" might be. In all truth, he is a composite of a lot of people I know. Musicians, engineering majors, computer science majors, even those in the more general college of Liberal Arts, they have more in common than would appear in their various majors.
However, instead of writing a story about each one, I'll just make something up for a change instead of completely basing it off of my own experiences.
Ok, I met this guy in my English class. It was an introduction to science fiction course, so I could only expect to see the same Trekkies, D&D fanatics and wannabe Jedi knights that I was used to hanging out with in high school. Being a nerd myself, I figured it would be a good way of making more friends.
The first day of class, he stumbled in, tripping on his shoelaces. Normally, this wouldn't make for a good first impression, but I thought it was adorable how his face turned bright pink as he tried to gather up his notebooks. I couldn't help but notice the poems (or perhaps song lyrics) scrawled in masculine handwriting in the ever familiar, black and white composition book.
The only seat left in the room, other than the chair occupied by generations of parked gum which were probably multiplying through some form of binary fission, just happened to be next to me. Being the absentminded dork that I am, I managed to forget to bring a writing utensil to class. I searched my secondhand backpack in vain and ended up asking him if I could borrow a pen. Of course, he was quite the gentleman and handed me my favorite weapon of choice, a medium ball point pen.
He happened to have band right after class, and so did I. It seemed as if fate had ordained for us to be together, even if he was in the saxophone section, and I was with the upper woodwinds. I recall numerous occasions where I had to duck to avoid falling music stands from when he clumsily knocked them over with his saxophone case from being late to rehearsal.
After a few weeks of the typical doldrums that occur with lectures, rehearsal, and work, came midterms. My English midterm just happened to be a partner presentation. Although my original intensions were to meet more people in my sci-fi class, I still did not know anybody. Being shy didn't help things much either. Yet fate seemed to intervene once more, since he usually sat next to me and spent more time scribbling in his notebook than participating in class discussion and was therefore just as unfamiliar with the rest of the class as I was.
"So, do you want to work with me? I won't even mind if you pick the subject of our presentation." he glanced over, grinning at me.
"Sure, but I hope you like robots," I smirked, "I didn't catch your name."
"I'm Jude, not the most creative name if your parents are Beatles fans," he laughed softly and extended a friendly hand.
I took it and said, "I'm Jane, not the most creative name in general."
He gave me his address, which happened to be across campus from my dorm. I snuck in after someone walked into the locked off residential area and looked for the right room number. As I was walking down the hall, I heard a loud pounding sound and thought that like the rest of campus, this dorm was still under some sort of repair or construction. I soon changed my mind once I heard gasps and screaming coming from one of the rooms. It grew louder as I got closer to the room I was looking for. I looked up at the room number, and then I looked at the number scrawled on my hand. I checked about three times since I couldn't believe that the noises that I had been hearing were coming out of the same room where I was to be working on a project with yet another nerd.
Before I could knock on the door, the noises stopped and the door suddenly opened. A girl ran out, her hair wildly tousled over her face, her button down shirt half hanging, and half tucked into a short skirt. I saw Jude eyeing his handiwork with a content look on his face. He had a pair of pink lace panties in his hand. He looked at it as if in deep contemplation. When he finally noticed me, his eyes went wide for a nanosecond and then blinked as if not missing a beat.
"Would you like to come in?" he asked, wiping his glasses with the panties and then stuffing them into his back pocket as if they had always belonged there.
"Uh...Yeah. I'm sorry for coming early, I mean..." I could feel my face catching on fire.
He blushed slightly and held the door open for me, "Let's get started, shall we?"
We had done preliminary research, so the only thing we had to do was pull both halves of the project together. We printed out various online resources and dog-eared, highlighted sections of Isaac Asimov and Philip K. Dick.
Yet once again, I was an absent minded dork who remembered everything except for one minor detail.
"I'm sorry, but it seems that I am without a writing utensil again," I laughed nervously.
"No problem, there should be some pens in the drawer," he casually gestured to his desk.
I crept over to his desk where his laptop computer sat with a scantily clad anime babe smiling suggestively on the screen. I opened the drawer carefully and found the biggest supply of condoms I had ever seen in my life. When I had first heard about the limit of 28 condoms per week, I couldn't imagine that anybody could need that many. In Jude's case, I didn't find the idea of him going through more than the alotted quota so hard to believe. For a second, I thought about him fucking me four times a day and shivered slightly.
"Did you find it?" Jude asked, continuing to take notes.
"Uh, no, but it seems that I have found something else, something more...intriguing," I smiled wickedly.
