It's a long story, breaking this into two was a consideration, but I leave it to you the reader to decide if I got it right. It sits in Romance because my editor says it belongs here, left to me I would have put it in Novella. My thanks go to SouthPacific for keeping me honest. As always I'm to blame if you find something wrong with the storyline.
*******
"What do you want to be when you grow up?" A question that gets asked by the majority of parents to a child and, as I recount my story to you, I often wondered if the path that lay before me was the one intended for me all along.
College was a given; web design was what I thought of as my first passion. But, of course, that was before I met Stacey and Karen. It wasn't my intention to meet them; hell, the twins' reputation preceded them. Don't get me wrong: they were smart and fit, not only physically, since they were both track stars at our college, but damned good-looking, and both of those characteristics were a torch for all the jocks, the pretty boys and trust fund babies.
I'm almost sure the queue went around the sophomore dorm first, and then the second year it was the sorority house. I was just so glad that our circles didn't clash. Isn't it funny when you think stuff like that, because you just know that the universe has its own plans for you. And, as the cards fall, you have just got to wonder what sick bastard would orchestrate all this.
*******
A friend of mine asked if I would like to earn some extra cash. When my eyebrow went up, he spent the next couple of minutes telling me that it was all above board. Tutoring, he said; he even made it sound like fun.
"Mind you, I would stick to math; your English sucks. I mean, who even understands that Georgia accent except you?"
It seems I perfected the art of rolling one of my magazines into a tight roll so quickly that I managed to get in two good hits before he made it out of my room. Yet the idea seemed to stick, so much so that getting any of my own work done just came to a screeching halt. So I took it to one of my professors and double-checked with him. He read the notice I planed to put on one of the information boards. All I was asking for was his signature next to it so that any student reading it would know it was legit.
My radar should have gone off when he smiled and said he would help with my first two students. I guess it (my radar, that is) was having an off day; either that, or I trusted him way too much.
Since it was warm out I had arranged with my professor to point my first two victims at the benches by the sophomore dorms the next day. Word came back via my professor that they both couldn't make it, so it was going to be one to one. I actually thought the Gods were smiling on me, since one to one would be a good start to my career of tutoring.
I got there ten minutes before the agreed time and left an hour later, with my own work completed and my opinion of tutoring now being a thing of memory. It was nine in the evening when I got a knock on the door to my room and found one of the students outside, holding an envelope in his hand. I was patient enough to wait until I closed the door before opening the envelope, and some money dropped out.
The note read: "Tutoring for two. Sorry that neither of us could make it."
Adding my own note to the cash I stashed back into the envelope, I went into the admin building the next morning and had the nice lady place the note into my professor's in-tray so he could send it on. That note read: "Can't take your money when I've not earned it. Please look for another tutor since this one has retired."
Next thing on my list was to slap my friend for even suggesting it in the first place. The next day Professor Marshall held me back when the class was dismissed.
"You have to know those two students still need tutoring; put yesterday down as a communication error, Andy." He slid my envelope back across to me.
I watched it for a moment and wondered why I was bothering to do even that. This time I listened to my instinct and declined. We talked some more, with my professor telling me that both students could learn from my helping them but, feeling that my decision was the right one, I declined and left.
My study period saw me outside, sitting under a tree for shade while I read. A thud made me jump, and I looked up to see that a pink shoulder bag had hit the grass two feet away. An identical bag hit the dirt on my other side, my startled gaze meeting that of one of the twins as she and her sister slid to the ground beside me.
"Hi! I'm Stacey and that's Karen; we are the victims you are tutoring."
My friend got an upgrade. I wasn't going to slap him for suggesting this. I was going to kill him, and I knew exactly where to hide his broken body when I was done with him.
*******
The pause was only so I could draw breath. As I looked at Stacey she just smiled back. That silent moment continued, inasmuch as I didn't want it to, because my body had that flutter. I wish I could explain it better; it's as though my stomach flipped. I was sitting the closest to the twins I had ever been in all the time I'd been here, and all my mind could do was to put my brain into neutral.
Just then another thud could be heard as Martin Sorenson, one of our middle linebackers, dropped his impressive bulk onto the grass next to Karen.
"Hey, ladies! Why are you sitting with the dweeb?"
It was only when Stacey turned her attention to Martin that my own mind dropped into gear once again.
"He's our math tutor, Martin. We would have asked you to tutor us, but your math skills only go as far as last week's football score."
Wow! What a put-down, and I didn't even get a chance to open my mouth! I have to say in Martin's defense, though, he sure rolled with the punches.
"32-17. An impressive score, and I played rather well that day, even if I say so myself."
"You just did, Martin." Karen smiled when she said it, so even I wasn't sure if she was taking a dig at him.
Getting the impression that he wasn't helping himself, he got up and looked at me when he did. "Look after my girls, dweeb."
I watched as Martin made it a good five paces away before Karen called out to him. When he turned, she had a tape measure in her hand. I swear I didn't know where she got it from. Four inches of the tape could be seen between her fingers. "We're just friends, Martin: remember that." She made a polite coughing noise, and tilted her head in my direction as she did. She added eight inches to the space between her fingers. "We found out last night he is the one with the benefits."
He went crimson and clutched his shoulder bag a lot more tightly than needed, before he smirked and walked away. Now I had both of them staring at me again and, impressed as I was at how they handled themselves, I still wasn't interested.
"Great - just great! You piss off a Neanderthal and I'm left with the fallout."
"Well, explain men to me. Why do they have to stand there and compare dick sizes?"